Russian Claws
by Zaxarus
Summary: A new year at Hogwarts sees Ginny Weasley struggling to find her place and to cope with the events around the chamber of secrets and Hermione Granger pondering about her friendship with Harry and Ron. Could a new pupil from Durmstrang push them in the right direction? Encompasses Harry's third year at Hogwarts. 1st part of a triology
1. Chapter 1 From Russia with Claws

_**Author's Note:**_

_This story encompasses the third year of Harry at Hogwarts (The Prisoner of Azkaban). I'll introduce an additional character (Piotr Iljitsch Kamenew, the name originates from the film "The shoes of the Fisherman"). The story will be written mostly from his point of view, even if I don't write in first person. He isn't thought as "the hero" of the story but as a catalyst, an additional factor that changes the behavior of some other persons thru his words. So this story will be slightly AU, especially the later part._

.

**Chapter 1: From Russia with Claws**

_Diagon Alley – Leaky Cauldron – August 27__th__ 1993_

The day had been a bit boring. To go shopping in the Diagon Alley wasn't that chequered after nine days of living in the Leaky Cauldron with nothing else to do than going around, admiring the new broomstick Firebolt and eating ice at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. At least he had enough money to spend thanks to his safe at Gringotts.

Fife-hundred galleons, that was the purchase price of the Firebolt. The price was mind-boggling, especially as Harry thought about the journey to Egypt the Weasleys had done this summer, all eight of them visiting Bill Weasley who was working there for Gringotts. Arthur Weasley had won a prize contest of the Daily Prophet and most of the prize money, a sum around the price of a single Firebolt, had allowed all eight Weasleys to stay in Egypt for a full three weeks.

Deep in his thoughts he neared the Leaky Cauldron and crashed against another boy as both of them started for the door in the same moment. With arms and legs helplessly flailing around both went to the ground, Harry's head banging hurtfully against the doorframe. Holding his aching head with the left, his right hand assured his spectacles back in place as something jumped on his legs. Tiny claws pricked thru his pants and Harry gave a little yell from pain and surprise as he realized that a large cat was sitting there.

It wasn't a real cat, but resembled more a lynx. It looked to be quite wild and livid in the moment, hissing at Harry and baring dangerous sharp looking teeth. "Tasha Yar, that's nat very nice fram you. I'm sure it wasn't deliberately. Dan't you see, he's hurt too."

The large boy in front of him – Harry assumed him to be around the age and height of Fred and George, but looking taller from the ground – reached down and pulled the cat from Harry's legs. Causing another yelp from the boy as the claws left the skin. The foreign boy with the silly accent pressed the cat against his breast and snogged; something the cat obviously didn't like very much but amused its master nonetheless. Embarrassed the lynx wriggled out of his arms and jumped on a wooden case nearby, showing an expression of disgust.

Her master giggled shortly before he turned to the still amazedly watching Harry and reaching out a shovel-like hand. "Sarry, wasn't looking. Hope you didn't hurt too much."

For some long moments Harry stared at him, inhaled the picture of this boy. Around fifteen, as large as Fred and George but certainly twenty pounds heavier, the additional mass not stemming from fat but muscles. He had dark-blonde hair and warm brown eyes with a hint of sadness therein. Accepting the hand Harry felt himself lifted from the ground with ease. "No … all good … nothing happened," he assured.

A small smile crossed the face of the boy and he shortly nodded before he went to gather the bags that had fallen to the ground on the impact. _Plastic bags, books … muggle books_, Harry pondered. He saw a travel guide to Scotland and some hiking maps vanishing in one of the books before he started to help. Novels from English authors constituted the largest part, the other being scientific books, especially about biology, chemistry and medicine.

"Fundamentals of Natural Medicine," he read aloud.

"It is a good book, very helpful," the boy stated as he gently grabbed the book from Harry's grasp and put it into one of the bags. Harry realized that the plastic bags belonged to the book shop that flanked the Leaky Cauldron on the Muggle side. Raising from the ground the boy silently waited for Harry to open the door, went in and strode to an empty table, shortly nodding to the landlord. "Tom, I really could use some strong tea."

Harry silently watched as the boy started to empty the bags, laid the books orderly on the table and cleaned them carefully before he started to write the names into a list. The number of books, the care and this behavior … it all reminded him much of someone, someone he missed deeply. "Your surname isn't coincidentally 'Granger'," he asked with a broad smile, causing the other boy to look up with a confused expression.

"Granger, why should …"

Harry stopped him with a wave of his hand. "It was only a joke. You remind me of a very good friend of mine and her name is Hermione Granger." He pointed towards the books. "You seem to share her love for books."

It was amusing to watch the large hand to lovingly stroke the books. "Yes, I love books. You can never have enough of them. They give you company in dark hours and never betray you." He pondered for a minute. "This Germeene Granger, is she your girlfriend?"

"Oh no," Harry hastily declined. "She and Ron are my very best friends." After a small pause he added, the word spoken carefully: "And her name is Hermione."

"Ger-mione, ger-mione," he tried, not really grasping the sound. He sighed disappointedly. "I fear I have to train this name. This letter her name begins with is a bit difficult to speak. We don't have this letter in my home." Obviously remembering something he hastily rose from his seat and had to fetch some books as he pushed the table away in his motion. He reached out his hand again and uttered:

"How rude, I totally fargat to intraduce myself: I'm Piotr Iljitsch Kamenew and I'm fram Kiev. That's the capital af the Ukraine."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Harry Potter," Harry eagerly watched the reaction of Piotr, well-used to all kind of unpleasant behavior or some kind of adoring what he didn't like much more. But Piotr only grinned lopsided, his eyes wandering up and down as if he was searching for something.

"Ah, so you're Garry Patter. I heard about you. But shouldn't you be taller? I expected someone about six feet tall, with blonde mane and piercing blue eyes: you know, as the heroes of light and glory in the books." Confused, clueless how to react Harry stared at Piotr until he changed his disappointed face to a broad grin and punched Harry against the shoulder; "It was a joke. It is really nice to meet you. Your name has aften been uttered back in Durmstrang."

Tom interrupted them shortly, putting tea, two cups and a plate of breads on the table and a small dish with fish on the ground before he walked away.

"You're from Durmstrang," Harry asked when they were alone again?

"Yes," there was more than a hint of sorrow in Piotr's voice: "Have been there until … until last winter. But now I'm going ta stay at Hagwarts."

"That's good; I'm going too, only spending the last days before start of school here. Which class will you go?"

"I'll go ta the third class." Piotr saw the quizzical look of Harry and explained. "I'm going ta be fifteen in a manth but I'm repeating third class because … af the switch, the new language and all." Harry had the impression that there were other reasons too, but for now he stayed silent about the matter. So he would likely see more of Piotr in the future.

.

The next days flew away with Harry and Piotr spending a lot of time together. Right the next morning saw them training how to pronounce the names of Harry and Hermione correctly and Harry got the first impression of how persistent and stubborn Piotr could be. As soon as Harry had announced that Hermione would arrive four days later, Piotr decided that he wanted to greet her correctly.

Apart from this they spoke about Hogwarts, Scotland and all the things that were so natural for Harry and so foreign for Piotr. Harry only wished that Piotr would show the same enthusiasm when he asked him about his home and Durmstrang. But obviously the boy from Kiev didn't like to speak about that or the reason why he left his family. It was easy to see that much pain was associated with these themes and so after a while Harry avoided to ask about it.

"I have a question, Piotr," Harry asked on the second afternoon, both boys sitting on caskets and watching the passersby. "Your cat … Tasha Yar … what kind of name is this?"

Hearing her name the lynx opened her eyes and looked shortly at Harry before she turned towards Piotr, allowing him to ruffle her fur below the head and behind the ears for a while before she snapped playfully at his fingers.

"I never had an animal before. Tasha Yar belonged to my elder sister. Irina … she had been an ardent admirer of Star Trek. That's a Muggle TV series if you don't know, science fiction, spaceships voyaging thru space and all that. The character of Tasha Yar had always been very special for her. She combined all the characteristics she adored: bravery, loyalty, honesty. And she saw these traits in this cat too so the name came quite naturally."

"I see." Harry wanted to ask but didn't dare because he feared the answer and the new sorrow. But obviously Piotr understood. "Irina died last winter and left Tasha Yar behind. And now I look after her." For a moment he stared at the lynx before he continued with a smile: "Or better: Tasha Yar looks after me, deals with all dangers … and jostler."

Silently Harry combined what Piotr had told so far. His sister died last winter, the same time that he left Durmstrang. Perhaps she had been a pupil there too and her death or the memories about had been the reason to leave. Whatever the reason was, Harry loved the idea of having him at Hogwarts. Perhaps he would get along with Hermione as good as he thought in the moment. With Ron and him more interested in Quidditch than in books it certainly would be a nice change for her. _I wonder which house the sorting hat will chose for him_.


	2. Chapter 2 Brotherly Honor

**Brotherly Honor**

_Diagon Alley – Leaky Cauldron – August 30th 1993_

_The scream of a girl permeated the passages and rooms of Durmstrang. It was a scream of utter terror and pain, a scream someone carried with one without even knowing the person. But he knew the girl. With long strides he crossed the hall, shoved the elder boy who had been his friend for more than two years aside and pushed the door open. Harsh, nerve-grinding laughter greeted him but he saw only her. _

_She lay on the ground, weakly moving, blood bursting from of a number of slashes. Her eyes pleaded for help, for an end of the pain. He had never seen her in this state. Always she had been the strong one, the protecting one. Endless times she had protected him from the attacks of the other boys, his weaknesses making him the perfect target for their brutal jokes. And now, this one time she had needed him, he hadn't been there. _

"_Crucio," the harsh voice whispered the spell, caused her to curl in pain. Something happened with him; something in his heart snapped, crushed his mind and forced him to rush forward. A spell was slung in his direction, a second followed, but somehow he evaded them. Ten steps, five, without thought he wove the spell, the one that had been his secret for more than a year, the spell that was a heritage of his family and which a pupil his age shouldn't be able to cast. _

_His face showed terror as Piotr changed, as he crossed the last steps and jumped at him, targeting for the hand that held his wand. He wanted to evade, but fear slowed his reactions and Piotr smashed into him. Then there was only blood and screams. Others rushed into the room. Pain, he felt only pain as a dozen stunning spells hit him, stopping Piotr before he could avenge her, before he could kill him. _

_Before darkness descended on him he saw her a last time, saw her smile mixed with her sorrow for leaving him behind. He had betrayed her._

.

With a scream and tears running down his cheeks unchecked Piotr awoke. He had expected for his dreams to return after speaking about her. For weeks he hadn't reiterated the events that forced him to leave Durmstrang. A soft and wet nose nudged his face and as he opened his eyes he found Tasha sitting on the pillow at his side and watching him intensely.

"You miss her too, don't you Tasha?" Piotr whispered meekly to the lynx. Softly he caressed her side and kissed her on the head. That Tasha suffered the gesture without complaint showed how right he was. The lynx had been wounded and nearly dead last winter. Without his help Tasha would have died. But most important they had been there for each other, nudging them back to life as they needed something, some reason to cling to life.

Tasha, apparently of the opinion that the time of suffering was over, padded Piotr on the arm with extended claws. "Alright Tasha, I get the meaning." Piotr stated, wiping the tears away and stood up, preparing for the day.

.

Biting in the bread he got from Tom before he left the Cauldron Piotr walked around, watching the masses of students and their families around him. Tom had explained that Harry was meeting with the Weasley Family and the hubbub around him showed clearly that it was nearly time to go to Hogwarts. He was relieved that he had finished all preparations a few days ago. Today it would be three times as exhausting to do so.

What had it been in the first place that tore him towards the small shop? Had it been Tasha's interest, the harsh voices or the pitiful plea of a girl? As he turned the corner he saw something that was enough to instantly cause a twitch in the muscle at his neck, a clear sign of his growing anger. A girl, two years his junior and with a small frame to add stood there with her belongings splattered around her. A boy of her age stood by her side, trying his best to suppress his fear and protect her from the two bullies in front of them.

Piotr had never seen Crabbe and Goyle before but he had no problem to see thru them, to detect the fear in their hearts they tried to hide with bullying those around that were weaker than them.

"Oh, Neville playing the hero. Isn't that sweet, Crabbe?"

"Sure it is, Goyle. Perhaps she's his girlfriend."

"No," the first shook his head in disgust. "Even a Hufflepuff should know better than to date a Gryffindor."

"Perhaps you should give her a real kiss, let her know how it is to be kissed by a real boy and not such a poor excuse."

The small boy called Neville clenched his fists and stepped in front of the trembling girl that started to look around for help, her eyes widening as she realized the foreign boy striding forward.

Goyle, who had just started to move around Neville to get at the girl, sensed something odd. As he turned around he saw a large fist connecting with his face, sending him sprawling on the ground. Crabbe, staring, not really understanding what just happened, stammered.

"You'll regret that. My father …" He stopped talking as the boy, obviously unimpressed, started to walk in his direction and turned around, fleeing the scene.

Goyle shook his head, trying to clear his mind and to stand up, only to feel himself propelled to his feet.

"I'm sarry … Gayle was the name, wasn't it? I shouldn't have last my temper." The grief in Piotr's voice kept within limits and instead of releasing his grip he dragged him to the girl. "And now it is your turn to apologize." As Goyle only stared at him and started to contradict, Piotr strengthened his grip, causing a small yell of pain. "Apologize," he demanded, only releasing the boy after some words that could be interpreted as such. Ignoring the vanishing Goyle afterwards Piotr turned around to the smaller boy, Neville, and gave him a very soft punch against the shoulder. "To defend her was honest and bravely done."

Without waiting for an answer he started to collect her belongings, ignoring their stares and answering to the girl's "thank you" with only the slightest nod.

.

_Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour_

A while later, the incident nearly forgotten, he neared the Ice Cream Parlour in search of Harry. And really: quite a number of tables where occupied by a large number of red-haired boys with their parents and between them he saw the black hairs of Harry and the bushy mane of a girl, all of them surrounded by a large number of bags and a very large orange tomcat lying on the table between the ice cups.

"That's him, Ron." One of the elder boys exclaimed.

"The one that helped Hannah," a second added, seemingly the twin of the first.

"He's the one who …" started the first.

"Punched Goyle in the face," finished the second.

"It was a very sweet picture," they spoke together, ignoring how they confused Piotr, who responded with a scowl. "Da you always speak like this? And helping her is hardly notable. Everyone would have dane that." Piotr was neither dumb nor inexperienced enough to really belief that but he knew that he couldn't care about someone who wouldn't share this opinion.

"Violence isn't a solution," the girl with the bushy hair interjected. Piotr looked at her, realizing the sweet frown she showed and before the younger red-haired boy at her side could utter his disagree Piotr bowed slightly. "You're absolutely correct." The admission caused her expression to switch to one of alleviation. "I should have chosen another solution. But I have to admit that my nerves were a bit strained after the last night and … no, that's a weak explanation. You're simply right."

"Bah," the boy interjected at last. "It is never bad to punch a Slytherin."

"What's a Slytherin," Piotr asked confused, stopping the rambling for a moment. And it was Harry who explained:

"In Hogwarts, as you'll see, Piotr, we all are divided into four houses. It is like living in an extended family. We live together, learn together. Every pupil that comes to Hogwarts is allocated to one of these houses following his character traits. Every house strongly represents one kind of attitude."

"Yes," the red-haired interjected anew. "The Hufflepuffs are the slowpokes, the Ravenclaws are the braniacs and the Slytherins are the devious."

Waving around to his family he asked aloud: "And we are?"

"Gryffindor," the response came with a yell.

"Yes, we are Gryffindor. We are the brave adventurers." He explained, looking extremely smug and causing a groan from the girl.

"I understand," Piotr responding, his voice showing that he only understood partially. "But where is the cohesion between houses and helping?"

The red-haired looked confused; while Harry and the girl at his side showed very small smiles as comprehension reached their minds. The eldest boy, so far staying silent, addressed Piotr now: "What's so difficult to understand? You help those in your own house. And if it is against Slytherin you may help a Ravenclaw or even a Hufflepuff. Nobody likes a Slytherin." He narrowed his eyes: "Which house do you belong to?"

Piotr shrugged. "I have no idea, we'll see." Pondering for a moment, obviously struggling to stay silent, he gave in to his urge to explain: "And you're wrong. To help someone in need has nothing to do with house affiliation."

The boy snuffed. "So you would defend a Slytherin girl against me?"

"Naturally," Piotr responded. With a slight smile he added: "But that's only a very theoretical question, isn't it? Remember' you're a Gryffindor and Gryffindors are brave. There is nothing brave about bullying a weaker girl." While Harry and the bushy-haired girl worked hard to suppress a laughter none of the red-haired boys seemed to share the humor.

"But I have to leave. See you later, Harry."

As Piotr started to walk away he rushed into a very small girl. He saw only red hairs before she crashed onto the ground and yelped in pain.

"Sorry, sorry, I didn't …" Confused he watched the girl crawl away, obviously in pain. Sure he had shoved her to the ground but she shouldn't be hurt this way … or fear him. "May I help you …?"

He reached out his hand only to be pushed away by the youngest and the eldest boy. While the youngest went to help his sister, the eldest built himself up in front of Piotr. "You should go now. Leave my sister alone and keep your distance."

"Percy," the bushy girl exclaimed," don't be so rude. It had been an accident. That's no reason …"

But Piotr stopped her. "Na, he is right. It is his sister. He has every right ta defend her." He bowed slightly and with a last "sorry" towards the red-haired girl he walked away.

"What an ass," Percy cursed before he turned to his sister and gripped her arm tightly, causing her to whimper. "Shut up, Ginevra." He pointed towards his table. "Sit by my side and not a word from now on."

With lowered head Ginny followed the order and took her seat at Percy's side. For a moment Harry and Hermione followed her with quizzical looks but turned around to Ron as he started to speak about the coming school year as if nothing special had happened.

.

_**A/N:**_

_Yes, this is the family Weasley (without Charlie and Bill). You'll see that I changed them a bit. The girl that Neville defended was Hannah Abbott._


	3. Chapter 3 Emotional Voyage

**Emotional Voyage**

_Platform Nine and Three Quarters – September 1__st__ 1993_

After his argument with Percy, Piotr had avoided the Weasley family so far. From time to time he had seen them whirling around in the Diagon Alley or watched them eating in the Leaky Cauldron. Every time his eyes were drawn to the smallest family member. Ginevra Weasley had been limping the next day and Piotr wondered what exactly had happened to her. The collision hadn't been that forceful and even with him far heavier than the little girl …

Every time his thoughts were broken by the realization of how Percy and Ron Weasley were staring at him, which resulted in Percy drawing his sister even closer to his side.

.

"_The last year had been very difficult for her," Hannah explained._

_Yesterday morning Hannah and Neville had approached him cautiously. Realizing that his first impression had certainly been a bit ambivalent, Piotr did all to soothe them. But it had been Tasha – not for the first time – who broke the ice. The headstrong lynx had taken an instant liking to both pupils, going as far as to curl up on Hannah's lap and allow her to ruffle her fur._

"_She likes you, Hannah." To pronounce the H was still difficult but the hours of training the words Harry and Hermione now helped. "And she trusts you not ta hurt her."_

"_Who could hurt such a wonderful creature," Hannah gasped exaggerated? Tasha looked up as if she wanted to support this opinion._

_Piotr stayed silent for a moment before he responded with a depressed voice: "It had happened." For a while he locked eyes with Tasha before he switched themes to happier ones_.

.

"You said that her last year had been difficult, Hannah."

For a moment the girl stared at him. After spending the day before the departure together it had come naturally that Hannah and Neville invited him to their compartment. Another girl, a year below them with light blonde hair, startling silver-grey eyes and the name Luna, had joined them but stayed silent so far, only watching him intensely with a dreamy look.

"Oh, you mean Ginny Weasley, Piotr," Hannah asked as she remembered. "Yes, it had been. Have you heard about the chamber of secrets and all the problems at Hogwarts last year?"

As he declined, Hannah and Neville started to describe what happened: the petrification, the basilisk, how Hagrid had been sent away for a while and the abduction of Ginny.

"They said that Ginny helped him wittingly to execute his plan." This had been the first sentence of Luna in hours; and it caused Neville and Hannah to stare at her with an expression of confusion and disbelief.

"How can you say …?"

"And I thought you are her friend …"

"Neville, Hannah, be quiet," Piotr interrupted them with a gentle tone. "Luna, please explain."

Ignoring the stares of Neville and Hannah but bestowing a small smile on Piotr, Luna started to speak again: "Naturally this is nuts and in reality she had been influenced, manipulated to do all this. She had feared that something happened with her but had been frightened to tell anybody. But there are certain people in the school that believe otherwise. And they are willing to tell her this bull. It makes the events only the more hurtful for Ginny."

"I understand. At least she has her brothers to support her."

An odd expression crossed Luna's face, but she stayed silent for a while.

.

"_Look whom we have here." Just before entering the waiting train a small group of students had walked over to Piotr, Neville and Hannah. The Weasleys, Harry and Hermione watched the scene, waiting to see how Piotr handled it._

_Apart from Crabbe and Goyle, whom he knew from two days ago, there was a tall boy with ash-blonde hair, a black-haired, pug faced girl clinging to his arm with a gleeful expression._

"_You're the one that hit Goyle, aren't you?" _

_Piotr didn't deem the question worthy an answer, a reaction that obviously annoyed the ash-blonde boy. _

"_Deaf and dumb are you, yes?" He asked with a wicked grin, looking for applause from his compatriots – this is someone with a weak self-confidence, the thought crossed Piotr's mind - before he continued. "Be glad that you don't belong to a house yet, otherwise it would cost them some points."_

"_Points, what are you speaking about," Piotr asked with a confused expression. He was sure that nobody had mentioned points so far. This whole house thing was still confusing him and he regretted that he hadn't read more about the organization and inner workings of Hogwarts and only concentrated on the learning stuff._

_The ash-blonde groaned impatiently. "You know nothing about Hogwarts, don't you? I'll explain for the deaf and dumb," he snickered. "Every time you do something stupid, can't answer a question from a teacher or break a rule they'll subtract points from your house."_

_His answer only confused Piotr the more. "And the sense is …?"_

_Taken aback by the unexpected question the ash-blonde needed a moment to gather his words. "That it is: each house gathers points for good deeds, good knowledge or victories in Quidditch and the like. And the penalty for any wrong-doing is the subtraction of points."_

"_Okay," the long drawn-out word showed clearly that Piotr was still grasping for the sense of all this. "So when I hit Goyle, I get minus points. I understand sa far. But shouldn't these points translate into some kind af punishment? I mean … what kind of punishment is it ta subtract points?"_

"_Err … Piotr," Neville tried to explain," each house tries to gather as much points as possible within a year and the highest score wins the house cup."_

"_Ah …" understanding glimmered in Piotr's eyes. "So every house wants to callect as many points as possible and it falls to the other students in my house ta deal out punishment far the lost points, yes?"_

_Another groan escaped the ash-blonde's throat and Neville asked: "Err … no, Piotr. What kind of punishment do you expect?"_

_Piotr shrugged. The question seemed him to be a bit silly: "The usual. That these points change into cane strikes, whiplashes or seconds of casting a Crucio curse, something like that." The words were spoken nonchalant and only the wide-eyed stares of the other students told him that he had said something very unusual, at least for them. How odd they were. Certainly it would be in Hogwarts like in Durmstrang. He remembered intensely how it had been to receive punishment, be it directly from the teachers or ordered to be the training target for the other students. _

_It was a giggling laughter of the ash-blonde that broke the silence: "Snape would really like your string of thoughts, yes he would. Crucio the students, he would love this." _

_As Piotr looked wondering in his direction, the ash-blonde continued: "Professor Snape is our Potion Professor and House Master of Slytherin. He should be Headmaster of the School. It would be better for all of us. He would arrange it so that no mudbloods or half-bloods annoy us at Hogwarts, imbeciles like her." He pointed toward Hannah who tried to hide behind Piotr and Neville._

_With a deep growl Piotr made two steps in the ash-blonde's direction, causing him to instinctively jump back. "You wanted ta go."_

_Gathering his nerves and trying to play strong the ash-blonde answered: "protective are we, yes? Perhaps you're a mudblood yourself," he asked?_

"_It is not your business. And naturally I protect her. Hannah is my friend. I protect my friends." Behind him Hannah smiled broadly at his back and Neville visibly relaxed. Piotr pointed towards the girl at the ash-blonde's side: "Wouldn't you defend her? And if not, why wouldn't you?"_

_The ash-blonde ignored the wondering stare of the black-haired girl. "Pansy doesn't need my help; she's a strong Slytherin girl."_

"_I see," Piotr answered, obviously really understanding. He smiled lopsided towards Pansy: "Perhaps it is your job ta protect him, Miss Pansy."_

_The ash-blonde growled and dragged the sheepishly smiling girl away towards the train. _

"_Piotr?" He turned around to see Harry and the bushy-haired girl standing there. "You remember how I wanted to hear something about Durmstrang and how your life has been there?" Piotr slowly nodded. Harry continued with a broad grin: "I suddenly changed my mind."_

_He pointed towards the girl at his side: "By the way: I forgot to introduce you. This is my very good friend Hermione Granger. Hermione, this is Piotr Iljitsch Kamenew. Do I have pronounced the name correctly?"_

"_Perfectly," Piotr grinned before he turned to Hermione and gripped her hand to place a kiss on it with a small bow. "I'm honored ta meet you, Miss Hermione Granger." He pronounced her name extremely carefully and saw the approving nod of Harry." Harry told so much about you in the past week. He only forgot to tell me how beautiful you are."_

_Neville and Hannah stared, Hermione blushed and Harry sniggered: "You're up to scratch as it seems, Piotr."_

_Piotr smiled back. "I am. It has been a very nice morning with Hannah, Neville and … Tasha." He looked down where Tasha and Hermione's large orange tomcat were greeting each other. "And somehow I remembered how my Victor would greet Hermione. He was my friend back at Durmstrang, has been in the class of my sister and always be a real gentleman. Not that I exaggerated, Miss Granger," he quickly added. For a while he stayed silent, thinking about the past. But then he pulled himself together and smiled at Hermione again. _

"_I hope we'll see us in Hogwarts again, Miss Granger. But now I have a train to catch."_

_A short way down the platform Percy ushered his siblings into the train and hissed into Ginny's ear: "stay away from him. He is bad influence." He shortly exchanged a nod with his father and followed his siblings into the train. _

.

"You read the Quibbler," Hannah asked with an astonished expression, glancing shortly in Luna's direction.

For a while Piotr had been reading in his new book about natural medicine, but now – with the train nearing Hogwarts – he felt a bit lonely and homesick. The Quibbler would help him to cope with the feeling, he hoped.

"Yes," Piotr stayed silent for some minutes, a smile on his lips and his eyes showing that he wasn't really here. "The last years, when we weren't in Durmstrang, my sister and I lived in the house of our uncle Gregorji. He often read in the Quibbler and it had been his habit to read us aloud the most interesting articles. I'm not sure if he really believed all of them but we certainly enjoyed these hours. And knowledge is never superfluous. You don't know when the knowledge about the defense against Nargles or how to care for Bibbering Humdingers may come in handy."

To Hannah's surprise Luna stayed silent and only watched Piotr intensely. The boy caressed the newspaper gently. "As it was decided that I have to leave Durmstrang and my home, my uncle bestowed me a subscription of the Quibbler. Every time I read in it, I'll know that he'll read the article too and somehow we are … connected thru it."

Slowly his voice had changed into a grievous one and his eyes showed a hint of tears. Hannah sensed that Neville wanted to ask why he left his home and she pressed Neville's hand shortly and shook her head.

This was a question for another time.

.

_**A/N**_

_I plan to slowly abandon Piotr's accent (the problem with speaking "a" and "g" instead of "o" and "h"). I never liked the exaggerated use of the French accent in most of the Fleur stories, but on the other hand Piotr should have problems at least in the first months of his stay._


	4. Chapter 4 Treat her like a Friend

**Treat her like a Friend**

_Train to Hogwarts – September 1st 1993_

Hannah suppressed a low sigh. For more than thirty minutes Piotr had been staring at the front page of the Quibbler, his lack of head motions proving that he wasn't really reading. Did he know that tears were running down his face? She supposed not but somehow she knew that he wouldn't care, that this odd boy wouldn't be annoyed to show weakness in front of friends.

_She is my friend, naturally I protect her._

It hadn't been the first time that Piotr had called Neville and her his friends. And it sounded so earnest. A bit he reminded her of Cedric Diggery, the two years older Hufflepuff Prefect on whom she had a crush last year. What about was he thinking now?

.

First of September … he hadn't been able to read further after realizing the actual date. In his home the days would still be warm. He had always loved this time of the year the most, the weeks when summer slowly changed to autumn. In three weeks he would turn fifteen, the day marking the meteorological start of autumn. Even in the three Septembers he had lived in Durmstrang he had – thanks to his Uncle – been able to spend the weekend after his birthday in the Ukraine together with him and his sister. The last time, on his fourteenth birthday, there had been an additional guest: Victor.

Victor had been his friend and started to date his sister Irina a year ago. They had been close for a while but this had ended last winter as so much in his life. Never again he would celebrate with his sister and for years he wouldn't be able to see his home again. And Victor … he had tried to help him, to protect him, but his deed had only broken their friendship. Piotr wasn't sure how he would react should he ever see him again. Not that he expected this to happen before he finished his education at Hogwarts.

He didn't realize the silence in the compartment, only broken thru his sobs. He didn't realize the stares as the name of Irina left his throat.

Suddenly his grief was broken as someone gripped his shoulders and shook him. Looking up from the tear-drenched newspaper he had to blink heavily to recognize Luna. "Stop it; don't you see how you hurt her?" She pointed down to the lynx sitting by his side, meowing and staring at him. Piotr grabbed Tasha and hugged her, trying not to squash her too much. "Sorry little one," he pressed with a sob.

.

Squeaking and screeching the train decelerated, coming to a stop on the open terrain with no city or village nearby. As Neville and the others looked around for a reason, a gush of icy coldness swept thru the train.

"What … what happened," Neville asked trying without success to suppress the fear in his voice.

"I don't know, Neville. I'll take a look. Stay here and protect the girls." Piotr waited for a nod from Neville and left the compartment, closing the door behind him. Not for the first time he wished to be able to cast a locking charm or some other protective spell. But it was to no avail, he was a complete failure at those.

Slowly he walked down the corridor, took a look in the other compartments, seeing more than one pair of fear-filled eyes. Some compartments away for a moment the ash-blonde boy and the black-haired girl stuck out their heads into the corridor, only to retreat hastily as hasty steps neared. A good way behind him he heard the annoyed voice of Percy who tried to silence the fear of some first-year students but Piotr concentrated on the events in front of him. He had an idea about the reason of the coldness but he hoped to be wrong about it.

A panic-stricken girly voice screamed and Piotr heard a thumb as someone lost her footing. As he passed the compartment Pansy stuck her head out again and stared after him, but he had only eyes for the red-haired girl that crawled on the ground around the corner, holding up one arm as if she wanted to protect herself from someone. Another gush of ice permeated his body as the creature followed the girl into sight. A black mantle covered the creature fully. No eyes were visible and even the hands sticking out of the sleeves were somehow blurred.

Slowly the creature neared the girl that now laid almost life and motionless on the ground, only small sobs escaping her throat.

"Away from her," Piotr bellowed, unsure how the creature would react. He had read that only a Patronus spell was an efficient defense against a Dementor and could only hope that this one was more curious than aggressive. But this question was unimportant now. Important was only that there was Irina needing … no, not Irina … but she was in need his help.

"Away, Guardian, she is no danger," straddle-legged he took position over the red-haired girl's body, his arms defensively outstretched. For a moment the creature stopped, tentatively scanning the mind in front of him. Piotr didn't know how near he was to be attacked, didn't know that only Lupin's actions saved him. Further down the Professor, sharing his compartment with Harry, Ron and Hermione, had defended the students against another Dementor and convinced the prison guardians that the escaped Sirius Black wasn't in the train.

All what Piotr knew was that this creature threatened the girl below him and that he wasn't ready to betray her. After long fearful moments the creature turned around and left the train, gliding to the other Dementors that were gathering outside.

"Stupefy," the red light smashed Piotr into the wall and he nearly lost his consciousness as he slumped to the ground. Looking up meekly he saw a frightening livid Percy hovering above him. "I told you to stay away from her. This is your last warning." With that Percy's hand crushed around Ginny's arm and tore her to her feet. An instant later his left hand slapped her several times very hard, causing her lip to split and her nose to bleed.

Without saying a word he walked away, dragging his sister behind him, leaving it to her to avoid falling down again. He ignored the confused expressions of Hannah and Neville and the scowl that the ash-blonde and Pansy showed.

Piotr, who had been following the pair with his eyes, turned around as Pansy told him: "You shouldn't have helped her. Put your life in danger and for what? The Weasel isn't worth your help."

"You're awful, Pansy," Hannah yelled. "It is not Ginny's fault that Percy is such an ass."

With sad eyes Piotr looked at her. "He may be an ass but he wants to protect her. You have no idea how it feels to … to …" He lost his voice and stayed silent for a few minutes before he was able to address Pansy: "You know, Pansy … everyone is worth to help or at least to try, Ginny, Hannah or you, everyone. And you shouldn't help to get a reward but because it is the right thing to do."

"Slowly you're getting really annoying, do you realize this, Kamenew," the ash-blonde interjected? "Bit by bit I really have heard enough of your better-than-life-attitude. And please leave my girlfriend alone with your bull."

The content expression of Pansy to be called his girlfriend switched to anger as he gripped her arm to forceful and dragged her in their compartment again. "You have nothing to fear from me if you treat her like a friend." But the boy only responded with a huff before he closed the door.

.

An hour later the train arrived at Hogwarts at last. The scare gripped the students to the marrow still and most of them descended from the train in silence. Carrying their trunks to the gathering point, they awaited Hagrid to spread them to the carriages. For a moment Piotr saw Ginny following her brothers. Obviously someone had healed the wounds in her face and the girl did her best not to show her fear and pain openly as she stayed close to Percy.

"_I have caused this pain,"_ Piotr thought. _"I'm the reason that he had to hurt her. I should stay away from her."_

In silence he followed Neville, Hannah and Luna to the carriage and nearly lost his footing as he saw the creature that was thought to draw it.

"What is the matter, Piotr," Neville asked in wonder. He only saw the boy standing a few yards away from the carriage, staring at the empty space in front of it. His confusion only increased as Piotr slipped his trunk to the ground and slowly walked forward, staring intensely at the empty space.

"You see them too, don't you, Piotr?" The dreamy voice of Luna broke the silence and Piotr simply nodded.

"See … see what," Neville asked.

"These are Thestrals, aren't they, Luna," Piotr asked with a low voice.

"Yes," she responded. "They are totally harmless." Her small hand laced fingers with his broad hand and she continued very carefully: "You have seen someone die?"

He slowly nodded: "My sister … Irina … last winter."

Luna padded his hand. "Let's go, Piotr. The pudding awaits us."

With the smallest of smiles he followed her to the carriage.

.

_**A/N:**_

_No, he isn't able to banish a Dementor, not yet at least. He had only luck. I first thought about bestowing him the Patronus spell, but I think this would be too much so early. _


	5. Chapter 5 Welcome to Hogwarts

**Welcome to Hogwarts**

_Hogwarts – Great Hall – September 1__st__ 1993 _

As they neared Hogwarts Piotr become more and more silent, staring at the school in awe, at last stopping in front of the entrance.

"What's the matter, Piotr," Hannah asked with a bit of glee in her eyes, "thoroughly impressed?"

Piotr nodded: "I am. It is far greater than Durmstrang and somehow … more welcoming."

"More welcoming," Hannah wondered, "this dark castle?"

Pressing a weak smile Piotr responded: "It is the feeling you know. Durmstrang has this aura of hurt around it, as if the walls are crying …" He shrugged and followed Neville into the castle.

With a bit of regret he watched Neville and Hannah walking to their respective tables. _So these are the tables of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff_ Piotr noted. Near Neville he saw Harry and Hermione, both showing supporting smiles, and the Weasleys, who glared in his direction, Ginny hiding behind her oldest brother again. Looking around he detected the ash-blonde – Neville had called him Malfoy – and Pansy sitting at another table. _And there we have the Slytherins_. The last table would be Ravenclaw and indeed there he detected Luna, dreamingly staring at the ceiling that seemed to show the star night above. Only that the real sky was clouded outdoors and not yet this dark.

"Aren't you a bit too old to be a first-grader," a young boy in front of him asked. Piotr realized that he had been left with a large number of eleven-year-old students that were waiting for the sorting as him.

With an earnest voice he responded. "No, I'm only eleven, but I ate my spinach every time and a minimum of three apples a day. You should have done the same."

Some of the children started to laugh and the tension was diminished, at least until Professor McGonagall stepped forward and explained the sorting, calling the first student to her side. Interested as the first-graders around him Piotr watched the sorting, the number of children around him diminishing by the minute. More and more he felt the eyes of the elder students on him. Certainly it was interesting for them who he could be.

At last he was standing alone and as Minerva McGonagall called him to step forward, she addressed the crowd. "This year we have a special … guest. This young man is Piotr Iljitsch Kamenew. He had been at the Durmstrang-Institute for his first classes and left his home this summer to finish his education at Hogwarts. To give him some time for adjustment he'll start with the third-grades."

Pointing towards the chair Minerva waited for Piotr to take place and put the Sorting Hat on his head. It was an odd feeling with the hat veiling his eyes and feeling this presence around him. For a second he started to panic but suppressed the feeling.

"Oh, whom we have here? Not at Slytherin you are, that's for sure." Piotr heard some giggles around him. Obviously for any reason the hat was speaking aloud.

"I see much courage in this heart; perhaps I should put you into Gryffindor." Before he had time to think about his reaction, Piotr heard himself demanding "no, not Gryffindor". He had been speaking louder than needed and sensed his skin blushing. Minerva audibly huffed and Piotr remembered seeing the office's chain of Gryffindor House Mistress around her neck. Certainly she wasn't pleased with his reaction but he had to deny this. He wanted to avoid the Weasleys and sharing their house wouldn't help, even if this meant that he wouldn't see much of Harry and Hermione too.

"That narrows the choice but actually it is quite clear were you belonging to: you are by heart and soul a HUFFLEPUFF." Shouting the last word Piotr was greeted by jeering and hand-clasping of the Hufflepuffs and even some Slytherins who seemed to like his rejection of Gryffindor even if they had no idea of his reasons.

.

"Mr. Kamenew, would you please follow me. Headmaster Dumbledore would like to speak with you." Piotr turned around and left his house siblings behind to follow a still grumpy Professor McGonagall. He was quite tired and had hoped to go with the others to the dormitory and fetch some sleep. And somehow he knew that this meeting wouldn't be very nice.

He followed her thru endless corridors, losing his orientation in short time, his eyes wandering around, inhaling all these wonderful and astonishing pictures around him. At last they entered a crammed bureau. Shelves loaded with hundreds of books and scrolls, fripperies and mementos of all kind on sideboards and small tables, glass vitrines with cups and flasks of all types … Professor Dumbledore certainly had a real interesting room. But the one … thing … that caught Piotr's eyes instantly was Fawkes. The phoenix sat on his pole and stared intensely at the boy. Long seconds paused and they needed Dumbledore's deep harrumph to break the look.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, Mr. Kamenew. I hope the journey had been a pleasant one and that you'll have no problems with acclimatization."

His eyes losing the happy glare Piotr turned around; he let his eyes wander around for another time. Apart from Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall and him only Professor Sprout was present, certainly in her function as Hufflepuff House Mistress. He slightly bowed.

"The days in the Diagon Alley and the voyage had been pleasant, thank you, Headmaster." His voice was bland and reserved. Obviously he wasn't willing to simply trust them without proof.

"As you have been sorted into House Hufflepuff" he shortly bestowed Professor McGonagall a disapproving look as she uttered a low snort "Professor Sprout will be your House Mistress. If you have any problems, please ask her. As you'll be under age for the next two years, we have decided that Professor Sprout will be your guardian until your seventeenth birthday …"

He interrupted his small speech as he saw Piotr shaking his head. The boy shortly addressed Professor Sprout and tried his best to speak in a friendly and convincing way: "Professor Sprout, I have spent some time with Neville Longbottom and Hannah Abbott these days. Both told me only the best about you – your character and knowledge. But I have to deny this proposal. My Uncle had other things in mind. I'll have to speak with … some other person at Hogwarts tomorrow and if this person complies … I'll let you know of the decision as soon as possible."

Dumbledore seemed to be surprised but still agreed and it was Professor McGonagall who stated: "Perhaps it will be difficult to convince some other teacher to be your guardian, knowing the reason of your change of school."

Looking impassively towards the surly woman Piotr responded: "This would be understandable. Not knowing about the circumstances of my deed it is certainly difficult to trust me … especially after my intermezzo with Mr. Goyle." He smiled shortly as he saw the looks of the three professors.

"Perhaps you should explain …" Professor Sprout started but was interrupted by Piotr.

"I'm sorry, but those events …" Sighing he looked around and tried to take the sting out of the following words: "I know that this sounds quite impertinent, but you still have to prove to me that you are trustworthy and not simply a variant to the teachers I've known so far from Durmstrang. Only then I'll agree to speak about that and why I'm not sorry about what I've done."

To his surprise Dumbledore nodded. "I hope that you'll see that Hogwarts could be a home for you."

"Thank you, Headmaster."

"Good, good, now this been cleared we have to speak about your schedule. As you certainly know you have been exempted from broomstick flying lessons because of your vertigo." Piotr only nodded to this statement even with the sentence not being completely correct.

"Additional to that I was informed that you are not allowed to use Transfiguration Spells until your coming of age." Expecting the surprise on Minerva's side Dumbledore looked at Piotr for an explanation. With an irritated sigh he followed the silent order.

"As you certainly know I had to leave Durmstrang because I wounded … mutilated … a teacher. I used a Transfiguration Spell for this and part of my penalty is this restraint." Again this explanation wasn't completely true but near enough to the actual reason that it would suffice for the moment.

"And have you already thought about the other subjects?"

"Naturally I have." He pulled a list from his pocket and gave it to Professor Sprout, causing her to smile for the first time.

"As I know I'll have to take the other six obligatory subjects: Astronomy, History of Magic, Herbology, Potions, Charms and DADA. Herbology and Potions naturally will be my main courses as I intend to later adopt a career as a healer. Therefore I wanted to ask Madam Pomfrey for lessons in my spare time."

Professor Sprout's smile broadened and even Professor McGonagall seemed to be a bit impressed.

"As far as the electives goes: Muggle Lore, Care of magical Creatures and Study of Ancient Runes are a must. In divination I haven't the slightest interest or talent. And about Arithmancy: I really like math but divination is the other part of it so I'll rather not take lessons in that subject."

.

A bit later he was on his way to the Hufflepuff dormitory. Now it was time to become acquainted with the other Hufflepuffs. And tomorrow … shortly he pressed the letter for his supposed guardian. Tomorrow he would deliver the letter.

.

"He'll be trouble, you know that, Albus," Minerva stated as they watched Piotr leaving.

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes he will. But no more than some Gryffindors we both know. And I expect some good influence from him. Or how many students his age do you know who would try to defend a younger fellow student against a Dementor?"

Minerva nodded hesitantly: "I hope you'll be right, Albus."

.

_**A/N**_

_Who'll be the guardian, any idea?_

_I hope you like the story so far. As Piotr is not part of the "golden trio" you'll read about the main adventure only "at a distance". _


	6. Chapter 6 First Impressions

**First Impressions**

_Hogwarts – September 2nd 1993_

"What's the matter, Ernie?" Hannah Abbott was sitting at the Hufflepuff table alongside Piotr who had been very silent so far and tried to instigate a conversation. Across from them Susan Bones and Ernie McMillan had taken a seat, Ernie obviously moodily and with bags under the eyes.

Reproachfully he pointed towards Piotr: "He is snoring."

"I'm nat," Piotr responded, his cheeks slightly blushing.

"Yes, you are, snoring like a bear in winter. I really feared for the wooden bed posts. You should cast a silence spell about your bed. We need our sleep."

For some minutes Piotr stayed silent, the blushing intensifying and his response was nearly unhearable then: "I can't."

"What do you mean: you can't," Hannah asked with a gentle voice and placed her hand on his arm, feeling how uncomfortable he was with the topic.

Piotr sighed, poking in his food for a while. "Piotr," Hannah asked anew, getting a growl as response before he put his fork down and answered at last, trying to hide his emotions with an annoyed tone: "I mean exactly that: I can't cast a silence spell."

"But everyone can do that. It is learning stuff of the first class …" Ernie started only to be stopped by a hand wave of Hannah. "Please explain." As an afterthought she added: "And leave this shitty intonation behind. I'm your friend, remember?"

For a moment an astonished expression become visible on his face, but then it turned into a broad smile and before Hannah knew what happened she felt herself drawn into a rib-crushing bear-hug.

"Sarry, Hannah, you're right." In mere seconds his voice had gotten a way more relaxed tone. "It is anly … it is a bit embarrassing to admit: I'm really good at learning spells, at least the theoretical part. But somehow … I have very severe prablems with casting spells on abjects. Somehow I'm unable to get a real connection to them. Even the simplest spells succeeds pretty much never. It is a bit astonishing because I've no prablems at all ta cast spells an animals or persans; quite contrary I'm really good at those. It is one af the reasons that I chose ta be a 'ealer."

"That's really weird. And you have no idea about the cause?"

"Na, but I know that it had been the same with my mather. Perhaps it is some weird family trait."

.

The first lesson had gone moderately well so far: Astronomy together with the Ravenclaws. To his relief most of his lessons would be with the Ravenclaws, a few with the Slytherins and only in History of Magic he had to endure the Gryffindors. At least it would only be Ron, as Percy was four years his senior and Ginny one year below and together with Luna, whom he – to his regret – would only be able to see outside studies.

Hannah had been a very pleasant fellow student with an interest in Astronomy. Ernie, in spite of his former mood, had relaxed a bit and been friendly. The Ravenclaws seemed to be nice and open too, only one of them – a girl named Padme Patil – out of some unknown reason avoiding him so far. Her being the most beautiful girl in his class Piotr was sorry about this but hoped to better their relationship in the future.

Now he was on his way to the Hospital Wing to visit Madam Pomona Pomfrey. After his self-confidence the evening before, his shown impertinence even towards the headmaster and his willingness to get on Professor McGonagall's nerves he felt surprisingly nervous today. But he knew the reason for these emotions: while it didn't matter to him what the other teachers thought about him he really hoped to make a good impression on Madam Pomfrey. A last time he sighed and wiped away some imaginary fuzz on his robes before he entered the room.

To his relief the large room was relatively empty and quiet. There she was: her age indefinable, her dark blond hair forced into a stern plait, the robes flawless and obviously ironed this morning. She was caring for a boy he had seen the evening before. A girl, likewise new to the school and a Hufflepuff as him, sat on a bed nearer to the entrance, holding a piece of wet cloth to her forearm, trying her best not to show her pain.

Slowly and silently he neared her, unwilling to disturb Madam Pomfroy in her work. The girl looked up, her eyes wide, a single tear running down her cheek.

"Hello Eleanor," he greeted her, obtaining a happy smile from her for remembering her name. "A little accident," he pointed towards her arm?

She nodded weakly: "My first lesson in potions."

Piotr sighed, showing her a broad smile. "Oh, yes, Potions, you have no idea how often I … but now I like the subject very much and I'm quite good with it. May I see …?"

Hesitantly she offered her arm and with a surprisingly gentle gesture he took away the piece of cloth. A burn was visible, something he more than once had endured himself in his first year and what could be expected. "Dabbing nat wiping," he explained as he carefully removed the last traces of dirt from her arm before he grabbed the wound-oil Madam Pomfroy had put on a sideboard.

Carefully he started to apply the oil to her arm, distracting her with stories about the ingredients of the oil and how they were prepared. Eleanor hung on every word of Piotr, only wincing a bit as he touched the most burnt part of her wound. "You see, Potions is really important. Without Potions Madam Pomfroy couldn't help you in this manner."

Seeing that he had finished the oil application, Piotr looked around for a bandage only to find a clean piece of linen pressed into his hand by Madam Pomfroy, who silently had walked behind him and mustered him with an inscrutable expression. With a gulp he accepted the cloth and started to bandage the wound.

"This will hurt a bit, Eleanor, but the bandage has ta be firm. She isn't allowed to slip, that would only cause a longer healing process." At last he was content with his work and explained: "Visit me tomorrow morning in the dorm. I'll renew the bandage. Be careful with washing and nurse the arm for some days."

To his relief Madam Pomfrey seemed to agree and allowed the girl to leave the Hospital Wing. When they were alone she stared at Piotr with a stern expression. "I would prefer to be asked before someone treats my patients."

Feeling a bit of anger rising in his stomach and forgetting his good intentions Piotr responded: "She belongs to my house and more important she needed help, she was in pain. As long as I'm sure about my ability to help, I'll do that irrespective of anybody's opinion."

Madam Pomfrey stared at him for some more seconds before her expression suddenly relaxed and she showed a toothy grin: "Good answer, boy. I'm quite impressed how secure you were handling the matter. And you seemed to have a hand with younger patients."

Allowing a small smile on his face he started to explain: "with potions may main interest in the last years I really had my share of burnings and other accidents. And my Uncle started to train me in the healing arts a year ago." Trying to hide his fears and insecurity he continued: "this is the reason of my presence here. I want to become a healer and hoped that you'll allow me to help you in the Hospital. I would be able to be here when the others have their Transfiguration lessons and two afternoons a week. Or I could help on the weekend. Or perhaps when you are in need of relief for the night watch …"

Stopping his rambling with her hand on his arm Madam Pomfroy accepted his wish, causing the knot in his stomach to unravel and filling Piotr with a gush of happiness. The next hour they spent with the planning of his educations and with a feeling like walking on a cloud he started to leave the Hospital – it was time for lunch – as he remembered the second reason for his coming.

"Madam Pomfroy, I have a letter for you." He drew the letter from his pocket, his grip strong enough to crumple the envelope a bit and his knuckles to become white. "I wanted to speak about my healer education first because this is … personal. I didn't want to influence your opinion …" Madam Pomfroy narrowed her eyes in confusion, but stayed silent and gave him time to continue.

"Perhaps you can read this when I'm gone and think about it. It is … no simple decision; that I understand. But seeing you … speaking with you … I really hope that you'll agree."

He pressed the letter into Madam Pomfroy's hands and nearly run out of the Hospital before she had time to react.

.

_**A/N:**_

_I hope this "I can't cast spells on dead objects" isn't too weird for your taste. I wanted to make him a bit special but avoid a Mary-Sue character. To have this very dire constraint should do the trick. _


	7. Chapter 7 Rising Anger

**Rising Anger**

_Hogwarts – Edge of the Black Sea – September 19th 1993_

Irritated Hermione put her book – _Ancient runes made easy_ – down on the grass beside her. The peaceful calmness around her was a sharp contrast to her inner turmoil. The last weeks had been very interesting but also a bit difficult to her.

At the very beginning of the school year they had been overjoyed to hear that Hagrid would be the Professor for _Care of magical Creatures_. With the riddle about the Chamber of Secrets solved he had been reinstituted and allowed to teach. How happy he had been in their first lesson. He had shown them a flock of Hippogriffs, explained how to behave around the proud creatures and how to get their respect. And to begin all went well. Harry had even been able to ride Buckbeak. But then all went down like an avalanche. Malfoy, that awful prat, insulted the hippogriff and had been bitten by Buckbeak. Naturally it was Buckbeak who was blamed for the events – and with him Hagrid.

Buckbeak had been living since then like a prisoner and Hagrid … he had lost all his happiness, fearing for the live of the hippogriff and blaming himself instead of Malfoy. The stupid Slytherin since then run around, showing his hurt arm to everyone, complaining about the "wild creature" and that Hagrid should never have been allowed to teach.

Slowly her mind wandered from the Slytherin boy to the Slytherin Housemaster. Professor Severus Snape had been quite himself in the Potions lessons so far, denying Gryffindor any points and going great lengths to harass them. His most special 'darling' in these weeks had been Neville Longbottom. The insecure boy had always been bad in potions. His fumbles had more than once supplied entertainment. But since that DADA lesson …

.

_Professor Lupin waved them to enter the room and pointed towards the closed cabinet. "Today we'll train how to defeat our fears. In this cabinet is a Boggart. May anyone tell me what is so special about a Boggart?"_

_To nobody's surprise it had been her who explained: "A Boggart takes the appearance of our greatest fear."_

"_That's correct. To defeat a Boggart you'll have to think about something to deny this fear its power over your mind. The spell Ridiculus is quite effective against a Boggart."_

_For Neville the Boggart had taken the appearance of Professor Snape and with the Ridiculus spell he had transformed the Professor, caused him to wear an outfit like Neville's grandma. Hearing about this Snape hadn't been pleased in the least._

.

The next hours Snape not only harassed Neville even more than before, but he also denied Hermione the opportunity to help him, pairing him with Pansy Parkinson instead. Not only was she unwilling to help the poor Neville. Even if she had wanted to, she wouldn't be able as she was herself mediocre in the subject at best.

And then came the first real blow to her inner poise.

.

"_Neville, there is only one way to help you around this: you have to improve in Potions. Perhaps we can train …"_

_Neville smiled and put his hand on her arm. "I really appreciate your concern, Hermione, but I … I already found a solution. I'll have lessons in Potions by Piotr. He has spoken with Snape and he allowed us to use the classroom on Sunday mornings for tutoring."_

_Hermione blinked her mind raging. Why had he asked Piotr and not her? She had been Neville's friend for years and certainly she was more qualified than anybody else. More than only a hint of jealousy squirmed in her stomach._

"_Snape allowed you to use the classroom? Why should he do that?"_

"_Piotr won't only tutor me but a few others too, mostly Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Snape insisted that at least one Slytherin has to be in the course. So Pansy will be there too. I think that's a good solution. Yes, she is a real badmouth but we're partners in Potions so it can only be good if she improves too." _

.

She should have been happy for Neville that he had found a solution. And she should have happy that this arrangement allowed her more hours for her own studies instead of teaching Neville. But she felt betrayed; betrayed that Neville asked someone else and betrayed that Piotr obviously favored Slytherins, avoiding the Gryffindors – apart from Neville – as far as possible.

This avoidance had been a great disappointment in the first week. Seeing him in the library every day, reading in silence apart from the ever moving quill, handling the books with a lovingly care like they would be little children. And it hadn't only been books about the lessons, but he seemed to be a bookworm like her in other areas too. Once she had seen him with a weighty tome from Jane Austin and a week ago she heard him speaking to Neville about Moby Dick.

Since Harry had told about him she had hoped to finally find a friend who shared her obsession with knowledge and was able to speak about other things than Quidditch. But every time she tried to speak with him he had avoided her, pointedly staring at Ron who seldom left her side now.

Ultimately she couldn't blame Piotr, even if it hurt her. Ron lost no opportunity to badmouth the Hufflepuff. This behavior had increased threefold since they heard rumors about Piotr's inability to cast spells. Hermione wasn't really sure about the truth content of this rumor but at any rate he obviously had been exempted not only from the transfiguration lessons but also from the practical exercises in Charms. But Ron's behavior, to always see the bad in Piotr and to make these remarks … it was so malfoy'ic. More than once she felt bad about not stepping in but until now she simply … she was a coward, she knew deep within, trying to keep Ron as a friend despite his behavior.

The reason of the antipathy between Piotr and the Weasleys had been Ginny. Little Ginny, how cute she had been one year ago. Yes, her adoration of Harry had been a little annoying from time to time, but all in all Hermione had been happy to have her around. But since their return the little Weasley had been … beaten. Hermione knew no better word to describe Ginny's behavior. Always around Percy, always silent, never laughing, never with friends she spent her time only with her books. In itself she should have been happy to see another student taking the lessons seriously but even to her Ginny took this a bit too far. And Ginny was jumpy, startled by every loud noise or hasty motion.

But what confused Hermione the most was Ginny's behavior if she would be confronted with those awful rumors about her willing cooperation with Tom Riddle. More than once she had heard these rumors and Ginny never defended herself against them, only bowing her head and trying to hide her tears. Ron and Percy did nothing about it and even Harry stopped to argue after the first times, seeing no reason for confrontation if even Ginny stayed silent.

This look, this reproachful look of Piotr … Hermione shuddered in rage. How dared he to look at her this way? It wasn't her duty to defend her friend if even Ginny … he should know. Why did he look at her in this way with his unhappy eyes? Hermione grabbed the book again, turned it to and fro without the energy to read on.

The urge to hit somebody with the book surprised her. But she had felt this urge since the _History of Magic_ lessons two days ago. It had begun so nice. History being the only lesson the Gryffindors shared with the Hufflepuffs she had been happy to see Piotr again and Hermione had been quite impressed to experience his interest in this bony-dry subject, that most of the students tried to sleep thru. He had not only been attentively listening to Professor Binns but even started to ask questions, deepening the lessons in a so far unknown way.

Seeing Professor Binns getting into student arguments about the 17th Century in Wales was a real baffling experience and normally she would have been eager to jump in. But the potions tutoring of Neville had been grinding on her nerves and as Ron started to harass Piotr in the History lessons – causing Piotr the first time to make a snide remark about Ron's intellectual capabilities – she had sided with Ron.

"_History isn't a one-student-show, Kamenew. Perhaps you should try to hold your mouth shut at least for some minutes to allow Professor Binns to finish his explanations without you interrupting him with your superfluous questions._"

Before the last word had left her mouth she already regretted her harsh words, her regret only intensifying as she saw the grief in his eyes and felt the agreeing clap of Ron's hand on her back. How could she … how could she badmouth a student for his interest?

He had done nothing wrong, had always been nice to other students and interested in the lessons. And then there were his lessons in the healing arts. Yes, he had cared for Malfoy's wounds. Yes, the adoring stares and giggles of the younger female students were quite pesky. But obviously Madam Pomfroy saw great potential in him and the younger students even preferred to be treated by him instead of her. This was so adorable. And she … hurt him with her stupid remark, tried to suppress his interest in her favorite subject.

With no other one around Hermione started to hit herself with the book, clapping it against her head with some force.

"You should really stop this, Mione. Books have feelings too, you know."

Looking up she saw Neville Longbottom staring at her with a weak smile, holding a present in his hands. It looked like a large Easter egg wrapped up in a Barathea. Wondering about the present as she had already gotten a plant from him this morning she waved him to sit down. Had it really been this morning that she opened the presents of her parents, Harry and the Weasleys? She had already nearly forgotten that this day should be a very happy one, her fourteenth birthday, and not the time for deep thoughts and troubled grief.

Neville hesitated for a moment before he offered her the package. "He bade me to deliver this." He hadn't to say the name, only one person could be meant. Staring at the package she realized that the Barathea was a scarf and the present within felt like a wooden egg. Carefully she removed the small envelope and opened it to read the letter.

.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I wish you a most pleasant birthday. May this year be quite fulfilling and your head always eager to inhale new knowledge. The scarf is meant to let you stay healthy in the colder months to come. Knowing that you would get your share of books-presents I hoped that this present from my home would be a welcome change._

_Sincerely_

_Piotr Iljitsch Kamenew_

_PS: Please consider this scarf as my apology. Wearing it would show me that you accept it._

.

Unfolding the Barathea Hermione stared at the wonderful scarf. It showed a plain with a mountain range in the background – she assumed it to be the Krim – with a medieval city at the banks of a river – perhaps the Dnepr. Flying over the mountain range she saw a trio of Griffons, each one in a different color: one black, one red and the one in the center brown.

Letting the scarf sink on her knees her eyes wandered towards the 'wooden egg'. A giggle escaped her mouth as she realized that it was a kind of figurine in the appearance of Hagrid. She saw the big bushy beard, the black mane and even the umbrella.

"It is called a Matrjoschka," Neville explained. You have to open it. And really: examining the figurine Hermione detected a fissure at the waist. Pulling the two halves apart she saw another figurine within, this time Dumbledore. With many giggles and comments about the figurines Hermione and Neville went thru the figurines of the other teachers until they finished with the smallest one, a very detailed and stern looking Minerva.

Watching Hermione's pleasure with a happy smile Neville ushered her into the castle at last. "It is getting late, Hermione. Dinner is waiting."

She sighed and started to nest the figurines into each other again. At last she draped the scarf around her shoulder in spite of the mild evening weather. "Let's go."

.

_**A/N**_

_I realized that there is not enough Ginny in this story so far. I'll try to change this in the next chapters. _


	8. Chapter 8 Feeling Loved

_**A/N  
**__This chapter contains violence towards children in the course of fustigation. Please don't read if this annoys you. But please realize that the behavior of Ginny's family towards her and their awry view of her deeds in the events around the chamber of secrets and the correct way of how 'to help her overcome her inner weaknesses' is a main point of this story._

**.**

**Feeling Loved**

_Hogwarts – Head boy's Room – October 29__th__ 1993_

Swiftly Ginny bowed her head to avoid the look of Penelope Clearwater. The seventh year Ravenclaw was Head Girl together with her brother Percy. And they not only shared this difficult duty but they were 'an item' since last year, as the youngest Weasley knew. Percy hadn't been amused to realize that his sister had seen him kissing Penelope and been a real chatterbox and told their brothers and even Harry and Hermione about it. The blows he struck to her had been well deserved and she was happy that he had forgiven her afterwards her un-sisterly behavior.

The summer had been painful for her. To see her mother hurt like this about her errors in Hogwarts … even now the memory forced tears on Ginny's cheeks. Her father had been livid but somehow quite calm in the same moment. Ginny appreciated dearly how he explained to her the events around Tom Riddle.

.

"_You had been too lonely, Ginny. I should have known; it is my fault that I didn't prepare you for your first time apart from us."_

"_Please Dad, don't …"_

"_Be quiet, Darling. Now I realize that I have been too weak in handling you, too soft. But I won't repeat this error. We'll use the summer to prepare you for the next year at Hogwarts."_

"_You'll allow me to return, Dad, in spite of all what I have done?" Gratitude warmed her heart but in the same moment a lump of fear build in her stomach. "But …" she trembled slightly "what when I fail again next year? You won't be there to help me …"_

_With a strong hand her father had gripped her shoulder: "Percy will be there. You'll stay near him and follow his orders as if I would be giving them. He'll know how to handle you. You know that you can trust him with all things, yes little Darling?"_

_Ginny smiled at her father and nodded happily, feeling the lump in her stomach unraveling._

.

And he had been right, as always. Her cursed behavior last year had only been the consequence of living alone. Yes, she had friends and Fred and George had been really kind. But Ron had been too preoccupied with Harry and Hermione and Percy had the duties of a Prefect. With all the new impressions in Hogwarts she had felt frightened and lost, not knowing how to behave, needed guidelines and boundaries.

She behaved like a five-year-old on a new playground, not like a responsible student. More than once she had been punished by a teacher – most often Professor Snape – without really comprehending the depth of her errors. So it came almost naturally that she fall for the trap of Tom Riddle's diary; that she started to write him about her idiotic phantasies. She needed a big brother watching over her and Tom had been eager to step into that place. But he had been a bad man, not the caring brother she needed. Ginny remembered clearly the deep hurt in Percy's eyes as their father had spoken with them about this.

Percy had been hurt that she had put a stranger in the place he deserved and he had been hurt by his own behavior, his own fault to leave her alone, to forget his brotherly duties because of his work as a Prefect.

"_I won't repeat this error, Ginny. Whatever troubles you, whatever decision you need, come to me. I'll always have time for you, I'll never leave you behind or betray you; you know that."_

Never had she felt the love of him more than in that moment. Lost in her memories she nearly missed how Penelope left the room. As every Friday she allowed Percy some minutes with his sister to speak about the preceding week. Ginny felt bad about occupying her brother like this, forcing him apart from his girlfriend. More than once she had sensed Penelope's eyes on her. But Percy had been adamant.

"_You are my little darling sister, Ginny. You are more important than anything else, more important than being Head boy, NEWTs or even Penelope. Father trusted me with your welfare; I'll never let him or you down."_

It had been the first time since months that she had embraced Percy, pressing her head against his chest, listening to his pounding heart. He had hugged her back although he didn't like these gestures, knowing that Ginny was weak and needed it from time to time. She only loved Percy the more for this kindness.

The door opened and her brothers entered the room. Today being the last Friday of the month she knew that Ron would be here too. He had agreed with Percy to spare some time to the education of his sister as he knew that he would have to take over Percy's duties in the next year. Fred and George, loving brothers as they were, couldn't be trusted with this, as her father had explained.

"_They are far too lenient towards you, Ginny. And they don't know how much you need guidance. I fear they'll never learn, but at least Ron seems willing. He'll be there for you when Percy had left the school."_

Ron had been allowed to care for her when Percy wasn't around. One of his first decisions had been to finish her childish adoring of Harry. Yes, he deserved every bit of it, but certainly not from a weak and bad-behaved girl like her. Ginny had seen Harry's relief as she quit staring at him as she had done last year and he had ceased to defend her against the justified reproaches of the other Gryffindors. They knew about her errors in the last year, her weakness and it didn't feel right that Harry defended her out of his all too kind heart.

Not that she needed these reproaches anymore. One of her weekly duties had been to write into her second homework book – the one only Percy and Ron got to see – twenty times "I shall not betray my family to strangers" on every Monday afternoon. I was her weekly reminder of the one time she betrayed the trust of her brothers and preferred a stranger.

"Hello Ginny," Percy greeted her with his usual stern Friday afternoon voice. It was this voice she loved the most about him, the voice that caused her to feel loved, cared for and protected. Irrespective of what she did, irrespective of how weak she was, Percy would always be there for her, give her guidance and forgive her.

Ginny stood up and forced her body into a proper stance, looking at her brother with beaming eyes. "I wish you a good afternoon, Sir." Out of his room she wasn't allowed to call him this, but luckily she often was permitted to stay with him. Ginny loved these hours, working quietly in his room on her essays and assignments, undisturbed by the other students who were too often unwilling to realize her need of silence. And not only did Percy protect her from unrest out there, he also was willing and able to help her with her schoolwork. He knew so much, never would she be able to get near him in knowledge, but she struggled and sometimes he bestowed a little smile on her if she did well.

"How had been your week, Ginny?"

She knew what he was really asking for. It was their little weekly exercise and she had spent the time on her way to his room pondering about what to say. "Professor Flitwick gave me an E on my last assignment. Thank you again for your help about that, Sir." There it was his little smile she craved for. "And Professor Sprout accepted my plead about an extracurricular work. She'll give me the theme next week."

Percy nodded solemnly. "That's good to hear. Do your best. It won't be good to do less after Professor Sprout's kindness."

"Perhaps I may ask Neville for help. He is really good with Herbology and …"

"No," Percy booming voice caused Ginny to tremble slightly. "Neville is bad company now that he's spending so much time with … him."

Ginny knew whom Percy meant. With a low voice she responded: "You're right, Sir, I forgot. Please forgive me."

To her relief Percy padded her head. "Don't be too sad. We both know that you do these errors; that you are too careless, too often seeing the goodness in others hearts when there is only darkness. It is the reason that we try to help you in this way. We care for you, Ginny." Ginny raised her head and looked at her brother with a hint of tears of joy in her eyes.

"Good, good, now … what else have you to report?"

Ginny struggled. Twelve points she had lost this week for Gryffindor, ten from Professor Snape for a bad homework and two from Professor McGonagall. The Gryffindor House Mistress was always too kind towards Ginny in spite of her reputation as a stern teacher. Certainly Ginny had deserved a harsher punishment. And then there was her bad preparation for the lessons in Astronomy. It had only been simple luck that Professor Sinistra had spared her this week, but Ginny knew that she had to be punished for this failure too.

"I have been lazy and untidy a few times this week, Sir. Based on my faults Gryffindor lost twenty points this week. I'm really sorry that I didn't do better."

Ginny felt the urge to bow her head in shame but she knew that Percy expected her to look into his face. She saw disappointment in his face and hurt. Again he had to punish her because she had been week. Sometimes she feared that she would never be able to do as expected but she pushed these thoughts away and watched Percy as he walked to his trunk. Ginny knew what he was looking for. The tawse he produced from his trunk had been used by her father this summer and given to Percy for the time in Hogwarts.

Ginny preferred to be punished with a birch rod, the stinging pain sending jolts thru her body and proving the love of her family in spite of her behavior. But the rod often broke her skin and she had to be healed afterwards. The tawse on the other hand dealt pain and allowed her to go on afterwards. The thought of needing to go to Madam Pomfroy to treat her wounds embarrassed her. It was bad enough that she still needed this but to show her weakness to others …

Silently he pressed the tawse into Ron's hand and ordered Ginny to take her position. Obeying his unspoken command she walked to his bed, lifted her skirt – her robes already being put on a chair – and leaned on the matrass, her bottom now freely accessible. Slowly, hesitantly Ron neared. Ginny knew that he was still very uncomfortable with this part of her education, even if he knew that it was required. She could only hope that he would leave this behind until the end of the term.

"Ginny," Ron started with a very hoarse voice and harrumphed several times before he continued. "I'll give you twenty strokes and you'll connumerate the strokes." Ginny sensed the slight nod of Percy and waited for the first stroke to fall. It came and as feared and expected it was too weak. Ginny knew that Percy would show a frown now, deepening as the next two strokes didn't get stronger.

Counting loudly Ginny's mind struggled to find a solution. As the fourth weak stroke hit her bottom she had an idea.

"Four … Kamenew …" Ron interrupted the sequence of strokes for a moment "I greeted him." The fifth stroke was accompanied by a small growl of Ron and a hiss of Percy. "Five … I know I'm not allowed to … six … I'm sorry about it." The strokes increased in intensity and Ginny knew that she had done the right thing. Tears of pain run down her face and wet the coverlet on Percy's bed. Ginny smiled as she felt the pain. In this moment she was feeling loved.


	9. Chapter 9 Try not to Hate

**Try not to hate**

_Hogwarts – Potions Class Room – October 31__st__ 1993 Mid-Morning_

Sunday morning and he was sitting here voluntarily, tutoring his classmates in Potions. And it wasn't his first lesson today. Beforehand he had spent hours with the First-Graders as well instead of relaxing as most of the other students did. _At least all apart from Hermione_, he grinned. Knowing her he was sure that she would be sitting in the library now.

After her birthday their relationship had taken a turn to the better, even with him still avoiding Ron and Harry most of the time. That Harry wasn't allowed to spend time with him was more or less 'collateral damage' as it became his duty to distract Ron in those hours Piotr spent with Hermione, silently reading or speaking about something, mostly school subjects. He had been astonished to hear that she had taken all twelve subjects and poked how she succeeded in organizing them, but she had been adamant about the details. Believing her statement to have 'everything under control' he had abandoned the question so far. He only hoped that Hermione was right, in spite of looking so awful tired most of the time.

Hearing about his tutoring lessons – one double lesson for first graders and another for his classmates, all given on Sunday morning till early afternoon – she had been quite impressed and in the end relieved that she was free of this. As it seemed she already had enough work to do with helping Harry and Ron with their homework. It had been hard for him to stay quiet about Ron. Obviously he was a real lazybones, something Piotr neither liked nor understood. But he was her friend and so he forced his mouth to stay shut about the youngest Weasley Brother.

Most of the other students thought him to be weird to spent time with Potions additionally. They really didn't understand how much he liked this subject. He liked to read about Herbs and Potions, liked to compare books about them, to experiment and enhance. Madam Pomfroy had been impressed as he presented her a first prototype of his variant of the blood-replenishing potion with the same efficiency but a better taste, thought to be used for the smaller children at Hogwarts.

He would like to spend even more time with this work but his tutoring was more important. Neville and Pansy had started to improve and the First-Graders felt more secure, something they really needed around Professor Snape. Snape, who in this moment was visiting his tutoring – not for the first time in the last six weeks – and now stopped beside Neville, obviously comprehending and willing to unnerve him.

As expected Neville started to quiver, causing Pansy to frown deeply.

"Mr. Longbottom," Piotr's stern voice immediately reached Neville, the tone causing Snape to turn towards Piotr and to show a small smirk. Normally Piotr called them by prename in the class and was called Piotr by them – or Peter, as the First-Graders started to do a few weeks ago. To address someone with his surname was reserved for special moments like this. "Concentration, Mr. Longbottom, stay focused on the potion. We don't want to pour it away afterwards. Breath and focus, breathe and focus. And Miss Parkinson: I don't see your preparation work finished. Go ahead please, Mr. Longbottom's work won't enhance thru your watching." Looking down onto the papers on his table Piotr did his best not to stare at Neville, hoping that his friend succeeded in working with a steadier hand now.

"What's this, Kamenew?" Startled Piotr looked up and saw Snape browsing one of his notebooks.

"You use the book 'Magical Drafts and Potions' from Arsenius Bunsen for teaching until third year. It is quite good but contains a number of errors and inaccuracies. Most of them you mention in your lessons but they are still in the books. I start to collect and correct them, so the younger classes may use them. Part one and two are already finished, three is in the works. Apart from the errors I added some comments and explanations, concentrating on the potions you like to teach."

Surprised Snape actually blinked a few times. "How do you know which errors I mention or which Potions I 'like to teach'? You haven't been in my former classes."

Piotr shrugged. "I asked Cedric and a few other students and browsed their notes. As could be expected especially Hannah Abbott and Cedric Diggory, along with some other Hufflepuffs, have very well-rounded notes about your lessons. There are eight Potions in each of the first three classes you teach every year; you add four to six others from a wider field. But as mentioned I concentrate in the moment on the former eight."

"And you think these comments and explanations to be needed?" Snape narrowed his eyes, perhaps not really happy about the hint that his lessons left something to be desired.

But the only reaction of Piotr was a small smile. "These books – as your lessons – aim at students like Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger or at least someone who belongs to the superior part of the class. Someone who struggles with Potions … excuse me, Sir, but you aren't really the most patient teacher around …"

"Dumb-witted," Snape added? "Do you really compare Mr. Malfoy with the Granger-Mudblood?"

For a moment Piotr felt the urge to argue about the denigration but he knew better than to fall for the trap: "Not really. Mr. Malfoy is quite intelligent and talented, especially at Potions as far as I know. But he tinkers with Potions because they are helpful, a resource to reach his goals. Miss Granger on the other hand simply has a passion for knowledge; she wants to learn because of itself. They only share one thing: both aren't especially adept at teaching others."

For a moment Piotr smiled openly at Snape, before his thoughts wandered to another question, changing his expression to a quizzical one: "You certainly have a reason to behave this … Slytherin … towards her, but I have to admit that I sometimes wonder why you are this demeaning and unfair towards Miss Granger, irrespective of the fact that you certainly know since the first year that you'll have to be lucky to find someone this talented and interested in your subject again."

The amused look of Snape slowly changed into an annoyed one, curtains slowly descending behind his eyes and veiling his emotions. "You're starting to become impertinent, Kamenew."

"I know," Piotr sighed, "You're hardly the first one to notice and I fear not the least one too."

Not deferring to the little joke Snape turned away after a last demand: "I expect a copy of these notebooks before you start to distribute them."

With a quiet nod Piotr agreed and watched Snape leaving the class room.

.

_Hogwarts – Hospital Wing – October 31__st__ 1993 Afternoon_

Now he had an afternoon off in principle. But since Madam Pomfroy not only accepted tutoring him but presented him also to the other teachers as her ward, he was more than happy to spend time with her above what was needed.

It had been a bit odd at the start. Him knowing only her name and her only hearing rumors about his past so far. Even with the letter from his uncle she had only been willing to act as his guardian after a month in the Hospital Wing. She had shown him the letter on that first of October, told him about the time she had spent with his mother twenty years ago at St. Mungo's. Back then the two women had been young and inexperienced nurses, dreaming about their future and how they would be able to help others, to make a difference in the world for the better. But then his mother met his father and followed him to Kiev, the city he had seen as his home for the greater part of his life.

Accepting to be called Peter – something Madam Pomfroy adopted after hearing it from some of the younger patients – had felt like homage to his deceased mother.

Only after Madam Pomfroy accepted to be his guardian and after her promise to keep her knowledge a secret he had divulged the events back at Durmstrang, how his sister had died and he was forced to leave the Institute. Now she was the only one knowing about his past and he had felt like losing a large weight that had started to press on his heart.

As he neared the Hospital Wing he thought about the past month. The first visit to Hogsmeade – with him nearly missing the visit if not Hannah had nearly forced him to accompany her and Neville – the attack on the Fat Lady, the picture guarding the entrance to the Gryffindor Dormitory, and the night afterwards they spend in the large hall. He had distributed his renowned hot herb-chocolate to the younger once and promised to guard their sleep. He had been holding his position in their midst until next morning.

And then the amusing incident with Ron – at least it had been amusing for Piotr. Ron had been dumb enough to enrage Professor Snape, the dispute ending with Snape sending Ron into the Hospital Wing, ordering him to clean the bedpans and presenting them to Piotr for approval. Even in the normal case it wasn't an easy job to get Piotr's approval about this work. He knew the importance of clean bedpans to avoid further disease and he had no problems to clean them himself – without magic naturally as he was unable to use cleaning spells. That he didn't like Ron was only the icing on the cake; Ron's bleating – the Gryffindor unused to cleaning work without magic – not really improving the matter.

For a moment Piotr stopped with an expression of disgust, spending some moments to suppress his shuddering. The annoyance and anger he felt towards Ron exceeded even his bad feelings towards persons like Crabbe and Goyle. Ron was not only lazy and hot-tempered, but he was also – as Piotr had realized in the past weeks – very willing to behave like an ass towards Hermione who was supposed to be one of his best friends. And he had been quite eager to curtail his friendship with Neville only because he had been spending time with Piotr.

The last point had been his face two days ago. Coincidentally he had seen Ron and Ginny leaving the Head Boy's room. With his experiences from Durmstrang Piotr had easily detected Ginny's manner of walking to be the one of someone who had just been beaten, probably with a rod or belt on the bottom. That itself didn't trouble him overly. But Ron's face caused his anger to rise. It had been the face of someone likewise feeling guilty and excited, like someone who had done something wrong and now felt especially wrong because he liked what he did. He had seen this look before on students in Durmstrang who had started their downfall with their first little hurtful pranks. This guilt mixed with the sense of arousing, of feeling the pull of might … in the same moment Piotr felt anger and regret towards Ron.

"Hello Piotr," like a few others Harry still declined to switch from addressing him as Piotr to the in-between more used Peter.

In the moment Harry was the only stationary patient in the Hospital Wing. After his fall during the Quidditch game between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff – the Hufflepuffs under Cedric had won the game and even Piotr had participated in the victory party afterwards despite his disinterest in Quidditch, something he shared with Hermione like his unwillingness to fly – Madam Pomfroy had decided to have him stay here for the weekend. Shortly greeting Madam Pomfroy with a small kiss on her cheek Piotr went to Harry, trying his best to distract him.

"You know that he didn't like to hear about your DADA-exercise," Harry asked after a while and he hadn't to explain what about he was speaking.

Professor Lupin, the new DADA teacher had started to train his pupils in fighting their fears. Piotr knew that Lupin had exempted Harry from these lessons because he knew that Harry would have to stand against a Dementor. And Harry, brave like a Gryffindor but equally sensitive, wasn't ready for this.

Piotr, who had already risked a confrontation with a Dementor in the train towards Hogwarts, had feared something totally different to appear. But he had agreed to give it a try. The other students from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw had been surprised to see the boggart taking the appearance of a beautiful seventeen-year-old girl with dark-blonde hair and brown eyes, wrapped in a summer dress and bleeding profusely from several deep gashes. She had started to speak with him, but luckily stuck to Russian so that nobody knew what happened in front of him.

For a long time Piotr was unable to react, in spite of his previous knowledge that exactly this would happen, that the boggart would take the appearance of his deceased sister, accusing him of betraying her. He had thought about possible reactions, about what he wanted to achieve with the Ridiculus spell he had trained under Professor Lupin's command. Dumb-folded he had stared at her, reacted only after Hannah's words had breached his fear. Throwing his spell at the boggart he expected him to change his appearance into that of Hannah, the one person he knew to never judge him.

But to his surprise the person that appeared in front of him was a girl but a red-haired one and younger than Hannah. Even Lupin – who after some seconds congratulated him, feeling how intense Piotr's fear had been – was confused about this development. And Ron – and certainly Percy too – wasn't amused when he heard about it, as Harry now confirmed.

"I know, Harry. I have no idea why I … I really tried to avoid the Weasleys, you know."

Harry nodded and responded with a low gentle voice: "That had been the reason why you declined to join Gryffindor, wasn't it?"

"In the beginning, yes. At least it was a very important reason. But now I know that I'm really a Hufflepuff and belong into that house. Given the opportunity I would select this House again."


	10. Chapter 10 The other Side

**The other Side**

_Hogwarts – December 18th 1993_

The snow scrunched below their feet as they walked towards the entrance of Hogwarts. Neville had left them an hour ago and so only Hannah accompanied him back from Hogsmeade, where they had spent the second Saturday-visit. Sated and satisfied they felt, their stomach filled with the best roast beef and butterbeer the "Three Broomsticks" had to offer.

A few days ago Snape had surprised Piotr with the news that he not only allowed him to distribute his "corrections and comments" but that furthermore the publisher of 'Magical Drafts and Potions' from Arsenius Bunsen showed his interest. Starting with the next impression they would be part of the book. One hundred gallons they wanted to pay him and his name would be mentioned, even if only very small. But Piotr was very happy about this and more than a bit surprised about Snape's course of action.

He had used a small part of the money to invite Neville and Hannah to the three Broomsticks and used the time in Hogsmeade to buy some presents for the incoming Christmas feast.

"The girl …" Hannah suddenly started to ask, hesitating as if her courage would be leaving her for a moment. As Piotr looked her way with narrowed eyes she sighed and continued. "The girl in the training … the one … you know … that was Irina, your sister, wasn't it?"

"I don't want to speak about it." Piotr's voice was barely controlled, a mix of anger and sorrow shining thru.

"I'm your friend, Piotr. I know these memories …"

"I don't want to speak about it," it wasn't yelling but certainly louder than he normally spoke to her. "Please, Hanna … please skip it. I'm … not ready to speak about it." She really wanted to help him and was sure that he needed someone to speak about it. But his eyes held so much emotion and pleading that she complied and instead continued to walk towards Hogwarts again.

A moment of abstraction was all what his unseen assailant needed to start the attack. The first hint of something happening was Piotr's tripping over his own shoes, going down to the ground at speed, the moment of the attack chosen quite well to send him head first against a small wall, slipping along the bricks with hand and head until Piotr found himself on the floor, bleeding from nose, cheek and hand.

"Piotr, what are you doing," Hannah asked surprised and concerned if not very clever, as she hadn't yet realized that his tumble was the consequence of a trip jinx. Piotr, used to quite more hurting "jokes" back at Durmstrang, stayed calm and used his wand to heal his face before he lifted the jinx on his shoes and stood up. Looking past Hannah he saw – partly hidden behind a tree – Percy looking his way. _Percy attacking him with a jinx_, Piotr wondered? He hadn't expected the Head Boy to starting something like that. But in this moment another person become visible: Ginny. Her expression was unreadable as she stared at him, nodding to something her brother told her.

Noticing Piotr's odd behavior, Hannah started to turn around as Ginny cast another spell, this time the bat boogey hex. Being able to see her clearly it was no problem for Piotr to defend himself against the hex with a protego spell, something his attacker obviously didn't expect from him. With the rumors about him circulating in Hogwarts – describing him as completely unable to cast a single spell – it wasn't really a surprise for him that someone underestimated him. Likewise unexpected was his reaction afterwards: none. He simply stood still and stared at Ginny with a hint of grief in his eyes, watching how Percy talked insistently to his sister.

Not before Hannah started to move towards the culprit did Piotr react, gripping her arm and forcing her to stop. "Don't, Hannah, leave her."

"What? What do you mean with 'leave her'? Are you dumb? She attacked you. You can't simply ignore that …"

"Hannah, listen …" he strengthened his grip as the girl tried to break free "Hannah, please I don't want to hurt you." As Hannah calmed down a bit he started to explain. "I don't want to involve someone in this. The Weasleys aren't … harmless. I couldn't endure it if one of my friends would get hurt in this senseless dispute. Please stay away from the Weasleys."

Over her shoulder he say Percy stalking away, his sister following him with bowed head and drooping shoulders. Sighed with relief he let go Hannah's arm, only to receive a hard punch in the stomach. "I deserved that. Sorry for the bruise you'll have on your arm tomorrow."

"You deserve quite more, Piotr Iljitsch Kamenew." Hannah chastised him, her voice devoid of humor. "We are friends and friends help each other. That's no one-way-thing, you know. I want to help and protect you …"

Her sentence was interrupted by a kind of howl that left Piotr's throat. "No … I don't want your protection … don't ever do that … no …" His hands gesticulating wildly, his voice nearly unable to suppress the obvious panic and his mind struggling to build comprehensible words, Piotr suddenly turned around and run away, not towards Hogwarts but the lake, leaving the sight of a shocked Hannah within short notice.

.

"He's a bit weird sometimes." Professor Minerva McGonagall stated, looking down on the events from her room, turning to face Hermione. They had been speaking about Hermione's Christmas plans for a while after the girl's return from Hogwarts. Hermione would have preferred to speak about the conversation she had – together with Ron and an invisible Harry – overheard in Hogsmeade, a conversation about Sirius Black and his part in the death of Harry's parents. But she hadn't been able to muster the courage to speak about that and swiftly switched to a more secure theme.

"He isn't weird, only … special. And a very good student, one of the most hardworking I know." Unfazed by Minerva's stern gaze Hermione continued. "And he is really helpful."

Minerva harrumphed dissatisfied. "I heard about his potion tutoring. Snape is quite impressed," she stated with a tune as if it would be a kind of offence. "Obviously Mr. Kamenew has no qualms about working with Slytherins."

"He has no qualms about working with anybody who is willing to learn." For a moment Hermione stared at the teacher she had taken such a liking in the past two years. Certainly Minerva McGonagall was her favorite teacher but sometimes she was a bit too stubborn. "Do you know the reason … why he declined to be chosen to Gryffindor," she asked with a small voice.

"Obviously he doesn't like our house," came Minerva's gruff response.

"No, it isn't this simple," Hermione explained, now fetching Minerva's interest. "In London, before we entered the train … there had been a problem … a conflict … between him and the Weasleys. I don't want to go into details but I assure you that the Weasleys were more to blame for that than him. But Piotr decided to avoid them, to avoid further conflict. And that would be more problematic if he belonged to the same house, sharing most lessons with Ron."

Hermione pointed down to the now empty place below. "You have seen what happened. It wasn't Piotr who cast the hex. In contrary he even declined to counter attack and held Hannah back. He really isn't a troublemaker. And he isn't a Gryffindor hater."

Not fully convinced Minerva stayed silent, pondering about the heard.

"And then there is the detail of Pansy."

"How would Miss Parkinson happen to be part of this?"

"No, she isn't. But there is something … you know how Pansy behaves most of the time. She is hanging around with Draco and tries her best to harass students like me." Hermione hasn't to mention that she meant Muggleborn – or Mudbloods as Draco loved to call her.

"A few days ago there has been an incident. All in all nothing special but the usual Slytherin against Gryffindor hassle. But then something happened. Pansy started to call me … Mudblood," Hermione shook her head to prevent Minerva from interrupting "but … she didn't finish that. She stopped to speak, thought for a moment and called me Muggleborn instead. She added some other cusses – you know how inventive she is – but this one word she didn't use."

"I see that this is a surprise and a nice one to add but …"

"One moment please, Minerva." Hermione really liked that her favorite teacher had allowed her to call her Minerva in private. "Not able to explain this behavior – something which obviously surprised Draco too judging from his expression – I spoke about her with Neville. She had been paired with Neville in the potions lessons by Snape, so they spent some time together. From Neville I heard that Pansy is behaving herself in the potions lessons. She isn't really nice or easy-going, but she cooperates and really rarely use cusses for Neville, at least in the lessons. Out of the class room she is the usual bitch towards him."

Hermione stayed silent for a minute to allow her word to sink into Minerva's mind. "Both – her behavior towards Neville and her restraining of using this special word – has a simple reason: they are the conditions Piotr placed on her participation in his tutoring of her. And as it seems Pansy is intelligent enough to realize that she needs tutoring and that her beloved Slytherins aren't willing or able to fill that place."

.

Hogwarts – Library – _December 19th 1993 Afternoon_

"You should really try to speak with Professor McGonagall, Piotr. It is kind of …"

"Yeah, whatever," Piotr interrupted Hermione with an irritated voice. "She isn't my House Mistress and I haven't any lessons in Transfigurations. To be honest I'm not really interested in her."

"Piotr …" Hermione nearly screeched, interrupting herself as she noticed the sinister look of Madam Pince.

To prevent another reproof Piotr fetched a pergament from his bag and pushed it towards Hermione. "I have a plea. Would you please take a look at this in the next weeks, perhaps in the Christmas time? It is a spell I'm working on. I called it Tasha's grace."

Shortly both students shared a smile as they thought about their cats. Tasha and Crookshanks had taken an instant liking to each other at their first meeting and since then more than once had been wandering the passages of Hogwarts together.

"I want to achieve a charm to enhance the natural dexterity of a person. It is basically working but the spell is quite exhausting to cast and the duration is way too short. Perhaps you have an idea how to improve."

"You are working on an own spell … belonging to the third year?"

"Err … yes. Don't pretend it didn't happen before … to you." Piotr smiled. "I remember a story about a second-grade who brewed Polyjuice Potion, something normally reserved to the lessons in year six. And with me repeating the third year I'm more or less a fourth-grade," Piotr smiled at her.

"Yes but to develop an own spell …" Hermione hesitated for a moment before she continued with a deep sigh. "Sometimes I forget that you're quite good at casting spells, at least …"

"Yes, at least …" Piotr interrupted, his expression unhappy. "Healing, curse-breaking and charms on persons and animals … all other spells are prohibited or out of my grasp. You can't imagine how often I wished to be able to cast a spell like silence, heat water or clean, something even most first-graders could do. Yes, I'm able to do this 'the Muggles way' and I'm quite good at it and it served me good in hindsight of training my body. But sometimes I would freely trade my strength and endurance for the ability to cast spells like you."

"But only if you aren't just punching Goyle," Hermione responded with a broad smirk.


	11. Chapter 11 Christmas Tree

**Christmas Tree**

_Hogwarts – Great Hall – December 27th 1993 Morning_

Ginny was eating her toast in silence, unwilling to disturb the conversation of her brother Ron and his buddy Harry and likewise lost in her own thoughts about the last night. Not for the first time she had dreamt about Tom Riddle, the young man who had tried to seduce her, to tempt her with her own hidden wishes and weaknesses.

Why hadn't she been able to simply listen, to follow the advice of her brother? As early as they stayed in the compartment of the train on her first ride to Hogwarts more than a year ago he had tried to drive it home that her 'hero-adoring' of Harry was neither welcome nor appropriate. But she had been stubborn, unwilling to admit his greater knowledge about those things. Even Percy hadn't been able to convince her back then.

She had only hidden her wishes and dreamt about a future, something like those faerie-tales she had been reading before Hogwarts. Naturally those weird books had been stashed away now. Certainly there were other things more important and those love novels had already proven their bad influence on her state of mind. For a moment she heard her father saying these words and nodded.

As she found the diary of Tom Riddle and detected the hidden way to have a conversation with him … she fell hard for him and his sweet words, words that promised her a future with Harry.

Tom had succeeded in convincing her that he was her friend and wished her only the best. He spoke about the future, how she would be able to prove her intelligence and bravery to Harry, how he would be impressed and be her boyfriend, how he would kiss her. With her head down Ginny's eyes searched for Harry, her cheeks blushing. Hastily she tried to suppress that feeling. It wasn't right and if Ron …

Tom had been wrong. No, not only had he been wrong but he had lied to her. He had promised that she would be unified with Harry … and they all lived happily ever after … until death us part.

Only that Tom Riddle had planned exactly that: to kill Ginny and Harry in the Chamber of Secrets, to unify them in death. Oh Merlin, she had nearly killed Harry thru her weakness, her fatuity and foolishness. It had been a wonder that he even spoke with her afterwards. Perhaps she should have spoken with him about … no, inwardly Ginny shook her head. Harry would never be able to punish her as she deserved. It had been one of the arguments of her Father about the nonsense of any dreams she had. She needed someone like Percy, Ron or her father, someone with a strong will and hand who would be able to give her a direction and meaning. Without it she was lost and she had seen where this ended.

Suddenly she felt this strong impulse, this gratitude towards Percy and Ron. Indulging this impulse she embraced Ron waist, pressed her head against his shoulder and hugged him, whispering "thank you, Ron, thank you for all you do for your silly little sister."

.

_His face was quite a sight_, Hermione thought. Showing a little more than only a hint of surprise he relaxed after a look towards his brother Percy. Fred and George, as usual this year, ignored the small scene. It had been odd to see how they more or less ignored her little sister and left it to Ron and Percy to care for her. In the year before it had been quite different. Back then never had they missed an opportunity to care for their little darling.

More than once Hermione had thought about Ginny's weird behavior, pondered about asking Ron. But scenes like this had convinced her that it was alright, that Ginny felt well all around and neither needed nor wished her help. She would ask her for help or search her vicinity otherwise, wouldn't she?

The last days hadn't been very cozy. It all started with a present from an unknown donor: Harry had received a brand-new broom, a firebolt. Happy, no he hadn't been happy. He had been exalted. At least until Professor McGonagall had arrived at the dormitory and taken away the broom. She apprehended that the donor could be Sirius Black and that the broom was somehow enchanted, or better: hexed. She promised to give the broom back after a careful examination but this would need some weeks. Until then he would be without an own broomstick, his old destroyed in the game against Hufflepuff two months ago.

But the real problem about these events and the reason for her difficulties with Harry and especially Ron had been the fact that it had been Hermione who had spoken with Professor McGonagall. She had feared the same as her favorite teacher and until now she was convinced to have done the right thing. But the boys were mad at her and hardly suffered her presence.

In six days the other students would arrive with the train, in seven days the lessons would continue. Perhaps she could think about the spell – Tasha's Grace – today, search in the library for hints. And afterwards … gently Hermione stroke the book she had gotten from Piotr as a Christmas present. An afternoon in front of a chimney fire with a cup of his herb-chocolate and this book sounded quite well.

.

"What a book …" Hannah's voice broke the silence and Piotr tried to tear his eyes from the "Golden Trio plus One" – the one being Ginny – and looked quizzically at her.

"The book you gave Hermione, which one is it?"

"Anna Karenina from Leo Tolstoy," shortly he thought about the other presents he had given away.

There had been a book about herbs used in Eastern Europe for Professor Sprout and a similar book about Potions for Professor Snape. For Neville he had looked for some material about Muggle-Plants of Scotland. And Hannah …

"That's an interesting choice … a book about unrequited and tragic love," Hannah smiled at Piotr, obviously relishing his reaction.

"What," Piotr nearly yelled. "You can't be serious. It is simply … you know … world literature from my home and all." His blushing intensified as he noticed the smirk in Hannah's face. After some minutes Hannah released him from his pain and put her hand on his arm, padding him slightly. "I don't think she'll take it wrong. It is really a nice book, a nice thought."

"Do you really think …?"

"Relax, Piotr, relax. All is well." Her smile was broad and earnest was a last hint of mischief was visible. "By the way I have started to listen to the music I've got from you. It was very … I don't know how to describe. The music is very forceful … dynamic. I think I would never … I had never expected to like something like this but I do. Thank you again very much."

Until now he had been unsure about her reaction, so only now he started to relax. "Stravinsky is one of my favorite composers. He had been the reason that I started to listen to this kind of music in earnest and that I hoped for a while that I would be able to play the piano someday. But unfortunately …" He raised his large hands: "too clumsy."

"I thought you'd be working on that," Hannah asked. "This spell you talked about …"

"Tasha's Grace, yes," Piotr replied. "But until now the spell is faulty, not really usable. And I've not been working on that spell for piano play, it is for Potions. You know: I'm really good at Potions Theory-Crafting. Even Professor Snape admits that I'm one of his better students. But more than once I made small errors in the practices and deteriorated the result to a mediocre one. If this spell comes off I would be …"

"Your marks would be even better, yes."

Piotr frowned. In a way Hannah was right: he had good marks, not the best and in a few subjects moderate ones at best, but he certainly belonged to the 'upper mid-field' at least. But it had never been his interest to … "I don't care about my marks. I want to create helpful potions. Alright, a bit I care about them, because I need them to be admitted to St. Mungo's, but this isn't the reason for my studies."

"Today you're quite easy to tease, Piotr," Hannah bestowed her broadest toothy grin on the grumpy boy. As a response Piotr punched her shoulder. "Good that I don't bruise as easily as you do, little Krim-Boy."

Piotr narrowed his eyes and bared his teeth. "Could you please revoke …?"

"Never, it is simply too nice. But tell me: you gave your spell material to Hermione, right?" After his nod she continued: "And the other spell you're working on?"

His surprised expression rendered his wish to remain calm impossible. Piotr harrumphed: "What other spell you're speaking about?"

"Don't be funny with me, Piotr. The spell you have been reading about in those French books a few weeks ago, the spell that causes you to walk around sniffing like a dog searching for his sausage end."

"Ah, that spell …" Piotr nodded in unison with Hannah, thinking about …

.

_A few weeks ago Hermione had spoken with him about a suspicion of her. Professor Lupin had been ill for a few days and it had been the second time that he had been forced to leave the DADA lessons for Professor Snape to teach. That Snape had utilized the opportunity to teach about werewolves, how to detect and fight them, had been a first hint. A quick glance into the astronomy tables showed that the days of his 'illness' coincided with the days of the full moon. And Hermione remembered that the boggart – as he turned towards Lupin in that lesson – had shown the appearance of a silvery bowl. They had interpreted it as a scrying orb back then but it could easily be a moon orb too._

_Could it be? Could it be possible that Professor Lupin had a very special kind of 'illness'? And if … would Headmaster Dumbledore be aware of it?_

"_I'll … I'll examine this … suspicion," Piotr decided. With a stern voice totally devoid of any humor and unwilling to listen to her arguments he continued: "You'll remain on the sidelines. Don't argue, Hermione. You're certainly more intelligent and educated than I but I've more experience in handling this. I need you in security should something happen … to inform Minerva and Dumbledore."_

"_You mean Snape and Dumbledore," Hermione asked back, her expression clearly unhappy._

"_No, I really meant Minerva. She's your favorite and … Snape doesn't really like Lupin. I don't know the reasons but it is quite obvious that he hates Lupin. I don't want to initiate a fight between them."_

"_And how do you plan to examine?"_

"_I'm going to sniff."_

.

_Practicing the spell he had started to learn the summer before – switching to a number of charms after he had been forbidden to use Transfiguration spells for a while – he had anxiously waited for the next full moon phase. Even Piotr wasn't dumb or brave enough to enter Professor Lupin's room at night. So he waited near the door, watching the breakfast one of the house-elves left in front of. Lupin wasn't amused to see him standing beside the meal, his frown deepening as Piotr blatantly sniffed in his direction, suppressing his reaction as well as possible._

"_Good morning, Professor Lupin," he greeted. "I hope you're well enough to continue with the DADA lessons. We're missing you dearly."_

"_Err … yes, it is getting better again. I think in one or two days I'll be there again."_

"_Good … good," Piotr sniffed again, the scent of wet dog … or wet wolf pelt … not to be mistaken. "And your illness … I hope it is noncontagious?"_

_If Lupin's frown would have deepened more his brain would have become visible. "Not if handled properly, don't be afraid."_

"_I'm not afraid. I only wanted to assure you that … you have friends here if you need any help, Professor Lupin. Auntie Pomfroy and I …" the nickname caused Lupin to relax a bit and even smile if only slightly "are ready to help in any way needed."_

"_That's good to know. But now I would like to rest a bit."_

"_Oh, sorry … here you are." Piotr handed Lupin the tablet with the breakfast and with a last assuring smile walked away._

_._

_As Hermione asked him about his examination an hour later, Piotr weirdly responded: "Lupin had been a Gryffindor, yes? Do you know how to get a class list of his year?"_

.

"It is a spell I learnt from a cooking book. Yes, don't look as if I just lost my mind, Hannah. It is not my fault. The inventor is a French cook and he invented that spell to enhance his olfactory sense. I think it is a very funny spell, but I haven't invented or altered the spell. But you have to train it, to learn the different smells and odors and how to suppress. It isn't only nice to … you know … I only mention sweat."

Yes, he had been training. And the house-elves had been helping with that, presenting him with all kind of food, herbs, dump … all kind of sources of odor. For a moment he smiled as another specialty crossed his mind that he shared with Hermione: his good standing with house-elves. It had started with his wish to repay them for their willingness to help and ended with him cooking herb-chocolate for them and baking – naturally hand-crafted – muffins on Boxing Day. They were one of the few things he was able to create with a taste that not only polite guests found acceptable.

The smile on Hermione's face – as the house-elves told her in the evening about what he had done – on its own had been worth enough the work.

"Someday you'll have to teach me."

.

_**A/N:**_

_In the book Hermione has a suspicion about Lupin. It is not so hard to see the hints. She nearly spoke about it with Ron and Harry, if not for their awful reaction at that moment. I thought it to be realistic that she shared her idea with Piotr and that he – always the brave and a bit suicidal warden – would use the situation for a bit hero-playing. _


	12. Chapter 12 Happy New Year

**Happy New Year**

_Hogwarts – Great Hall – January 1st 1994 – Early Evening_

It was the first Saturday of the new year, so this year would have 53 of them, not only 52. The weird but unimportant fact crossed his mind. He had been eating and sleeping the whole day, recovering from the week before. Every day he had been training, exercising his family spell. Yes, he wasn't allowed to even cast him for another six hundred and sixty days. But who cares? Should it happen, should the need arise to use the spell, he would be prepared now. He would not only use a measly variant of the spell but the spell itself. Uncle Gregorji would be proud.

.

_It had been the fourth day of his wanderings into the Forbidden Forest, the location he had chosen for his training. He would have enough room and nobody from the school would be watching him. That he wasn't allowed to be here was of no interest for him. If he was caught cast Transfiguration Spells his presence in the Forbidden Forest would be the least of his worries._

_He had been looking for a location with the right feeling, meandering between the trees, leaving footprints in the snow. Something had drawn him to this place, a place apparently not different to many others before. But something had happened here, something bad and life-abating. Carefully he started to wipe away the snow with a sprig of a white fir, freeing a place of snow a few yards in diameter. Looking around he cast the sprig away and sank down on the ground, pressing his bare hands against the earth. _

"_You have to feel the circle of life, boy. If you don't feel it, if you don't have a connection to it, how could you ever become a real healer?"_

_The memory of his uncle's lesson was clearly in his mind and he smiled for a moment as something …_

_Slowly he stood up and without turning he said: "You may leave your hiding place. I'm no danger." Only as he heard steps nearing, branches bending away to clear a path, he looked at his watcher._

_As expected a Centaur was looking at him, the human torso with fair blond hair and some of the bluest eyes he had ever seen connected to the body of a Palomino. Piotr bowed slightly: "I greet you, Firenze. My name is Piotr Kamenew."_

"_You know me? I'm sure I've never seen you before, at least not before these past days. And how did you know that I'm here? Until now I was quite proud about my skill at hiding."_

_Piotr smiled shortly. As every day he had cast his olfactory spell, thinking it to be reasonable to have a little advance warning. The forest wasn't forbidden without reason and even with him quite sure to be able to defend himself – or run quick enough should the need arise – he wasn't willing to run a needless risk. _

"_Harry Potter told me about you. With regarding to your hiding: let's say everyone has his little secrets."_

"_So what leads a friend of Harry Potter into the forest?"_

"_I'm more an acquaintance of him, not a real friend. And the reason for my presence you should know if you watched me the past days. The more interesting question for me is: is this the location he spoke about?" Piotr pointed around. "The earth is crying to me as if someone died here, someone live-spending. Not today, not this winter but sometime ago."_

_The face of a Centaur had obviously the ability to show the same range of emotions as a human. Piotr now had the opportunity to watch wonder, confusion and sorrow mixed with some other feelings. At last Firenze nodded: "Yes, this had been the location where a dark creature murdered a unicorn to get the blood, to prolong his life in an unnatural way."_

.

He had been speaking with Firenze about unicorns for a while and about the reason of his training taking place in the Forest. The Centaur had allowed him to stay there as long as he behaved himself and Piotr wasn't a danger to the creatures of the forest. To his regret he wouldn't be able to see the other unicorns, the few that were still living in the forest. At least for now he had to be patient and prove to be a friend. Would his wand be a problem for them?

Crafted from the wood of a willow and with the hair of a unicorn as the heart, the wand was crafted like the one of his mother before to serve a healer. Hopefully they would see the wand as homage and not an affront.

.

"I've never seen anyone eating so much, not even Ron is shoveling this way," Hermione scolded mockingly. With most of the table quite empty the four friends had started to eat together irrespective of the different houses.

"The last days had been very exhausting. My little body needs the food." Piotr smiled her way, joking about his quite sturdy and large frame. A few seconds too late he noticed that he had said too much and before he was able to distract Hermione she directly pointed at it.

"Exhausting, what has been so exhausting, Piotr-sweetheart?" Her voice was dangerously sugary. "I was looking for you a few times and you were unlocatable most of the time."

Piotr tried to overhear the question and poked in his meal. "Piotr?" Feeling the stares of Hannah and Neville on him, he sighed. "You'll be angry with me. I tell you if you promise not to shout, yell or panic or something like that."

Now her expression became concerned. "I never yelled at you. Piotr, what have you done? Where have you been?"

"I've been … training, yes, training some spell, nothing special." Poking again in his meal he bowed his head, trying to hide it between his shoulders, something that looked a bit funny with a boy of his stature. "By the way I shall deliver greetings to you from Firenze."

"Firenze, which Firenze …" Hermione paled. Before she was able to speak again, Piotr pressed her arm. "Yes, Hermione, yes, I've been 'there'. Nothing happened, really, Firenze has been watching me. At least I've finished my training now and am able to help him if the need arises." He shortly looked towards Professor Lupin.

For a while Hermione silently glared at Piotr, glared long and intensely enough to evoke a nervous fidgeting before she tried to explain to Neville and Hannah: "This … I really have no idea how to describe him properly … he has been in the Forbidden Forest. Firenze is a Centaur Harry met two years ago. How could you, Piotr?"

"It was needed." He simply stated his voice now again steady enough to convince Hermione if not to pacify her.

"Sorry, but I have to …" Hermione grabbed his arm and pulled him a away to an empty space of the table before she asked him in a dangerously low voice. "What exactly have you been training, Piotr? And how may it help him?"

"I have something prepared for you," with these words Piotr fetched a letter in an unclosed envelope from his robe and hesitantly reached it to her. "I thought about speaking with Professor McGonagall about it. I suppose it is her job to pass it along to the ministry."

.

Nervous Piotr stared at the door in front of him. Hermione had agreed to ask Professor McGonagall for a meeting in her bureau. With a last sigh he knocked and entered the room of the lioness. The expression of her face, the stern look of her eyes thru the glasses was nearly enough to shoo him away. Piotr had no idea how Neville could far Snape if he had Minerva as House Mistress.

"Mr. Kamenew, I heard that you wanted to speak with me. Please, take a place. Some tea?"

He silently nodded and took a seat, his hand fidgeting with the letter.

"What can I do for you?"

Thinking about his 'Auntie' and what she had said about Minerva, Piotr examined the face of the Professor for a while, using the time to calm his nerves and steady his voice. "Professor McGonagall, I fear we had a bit of a … of a bad start. Perhaps I have been a bit too …" His hand made an uncertain motion as his voice died away. Minerva simply watched him in silence, unwilling to make this easy for him.

"Two women I hold in high esteem said that you …" Piotr blushed. He hadn't thought this to be so complicated for him. He sighed. "Hermione … Miss Granger … she bade me to speak with you and Auntie … I mean Madam Pomfroy …" The blooper caused the slightest smile on her lips before he continued.

With the earnest possible voice he declared: "Madam Pomfroy told me that she deems you her most dear friend and the one person she trusts completely, even more than Headmaster Dumbledore. I trust her opinion and wanted to apologize for my former behavior. There are still things I don't want to speak about, I have to admit. But I should have …"

"I understand, Mr. Kamenew. And I accept your apology. Poppy has spoken highly of you, your skills and attitude as a healer and Miss Granger had been willing too to speak in your name. Perhaps it is time to start anew."

"Thank you." Sitting in silence he pondered for some minutes, drinking his tea and exchanging looks with Minerva before he asked her something more.

"As you perhaps know I'm not the first member of my family who combines an inaptitude for some spells with an aptitude for healing. My mother had been the same and at least her grandfather too." Minerva shortly nodded, prodding him to continue.

"Something else is part of this … family package, a talent for a spell. I think it belongs to your duty to pass this letter along to the Ministry. It is the first day of a new year, the right date for some … truthfulness."

Haltingly Professor McGonagall took the letter, opened it and started to read. In moments her face paled and the letter fell to the table in front of her. "You can't be earnest. You can't be …"

"I assure you: I am as my mother before. You'll understand that I'm unable to prove now. I really hope that you'll not witness me casting this spell for another nearly two years, because that would mean that a life-threatening situation arose. But I'm fully capable of casting this spell. I beg you to deliver the letter and to stay quiet about the content. Naturally the Headmaster may know and I informed Madam Pomfroy … and Miss Granger too. I think for the moment no one else has to know."

.

_**A/N**_

_You certainly know by now what spell this could be?_


	13. Chapter 13 A wonderful Girl

**A wonderful Girl**

_Hogwarts – Great Hall – February 11__th__ 1994 (Friday Evening)_

"Did you know that Neville is able to play the piano," Hannah's asking voice induced Piotr to turn around and tear his eyes away from the golden trio. He had been thinking a lot about Hermione and Ron very much in the last days. The friendship had been broken apart in the last weeks, something he concurrently greeted – as he still fervently disliked the Weasley boy – and regretted because he knew about Hermione's feelings in the matter.

For a moment he was confused and stared at his friend with an inquiring look. "Yes …" his sustained answer caused Hannah to groan. She punched him slightly and declared mockingly: "I don't feel myself taken seriously. My lips are right here." She pointed towards her mouth with the soft red lips. For a moment Piotr asked himself if Neville had ever dared to kiss her. Since Halloween he had been sure that Neville liked Hannah not only in a platonic way but as far as he noticed the boy had never acted openly that way.

"My eyes are always on them," he responded with a smirk. "Aua," he quitted her reaction as Hannah stroked him on the head with a leaf of bread. "I would prefer if you're ears and especially your mind would be there. So, please stop acting funny." She scowled very very angry at him, but after a few seconds Hannah couldn't hold the expression any longer and started to guffaw, Piotr following a moment later.

"So, Miss Abbott, what exactly did you have in mind with that information about your good friend, the endearing Mr. Longbottom?" For a moment Hannah shot him a puzzled look before she decided to ignore the weird word choice.

"Certainly you remember our conversation about music, Stravinsky and your wish to play the piano? I spoke with Neville about it and he told me that he had piano lessons. I don't know how good he is but perhaps you could train with him? Or perhaps … you have a very nice voice, dark and smooth. Perhaps you could sing with Neville backing you."

"Oh, Miss Abbott," Piotr fluttered his eyelashes shyly; "you think that I have a dark and smooth voice?" Another hit with the leaf of break caused it to break apart. His voice now earnest again he continued: "I appreciate the thought but I don't sing."

"Why not, you could certainly learn how to …"

"I didn't say that I can't sing. I only don't do it anymore." His sad look told her that something was wrong again and not for the first time Hannah screamed inwardly about his inability to tell her what troubled him. To her relief the sincere atmosphere was broken by the arrival of plashing footsteps … Luna.

"Hello Luna," Hannah greeted her and looked down at Luna's bare feet. "Where are your shoes, lost again?" She had expected Luna to wear the tramping boots Piotr had given Luna as a Christmas present.

Luna nodded sadly: "Yes, I'm sorry Piotr. They we're so nice. I hope I'll find them again before the winter ends." She lifted her bare left foot which was glistening a bit. "But I wear the warming oil you gave me too. See, I'm always wearing something of you with me around?" Bestowing a happy smile on Piotr and Hannah Luna walked away and left the hall.

Hannah sighed. "She's such a sweet girl. Too bad, that … Piotr?" Startled she watched her friend rise from his chair. He walked a few steps towards the table of the Ravenclaws before he turned around. "Please go fetch Penelope," he pointed towards the teachers' table where the head girl was sitting. "I need her at the Ravenclaw table. Go, please, now." He didn't wait for a response but cast some spell on him and started to pace along the table, causing more than one puzzled look. A few of the girls had been giggling but now stopped their behavior and let their eyes wander from him to Penelope who was nearing the table with Hannah behind and back to Piotr.

"Good evening, Miss Clearwater," his polite greeting caused some new giggles but Hannah only smiled, knowing that this was his usual behavior, something he had brought with him from his home.

"I apologize for interrupting your meal but I need your help in a little Ravenclaw matter." As Penelope nodded he continued ignoring the evil eye of Percy, who had stayed behind at the teachers' table, and the quizzical look of Draco and Pansy who just neared to watch what was happening here. "I'll cast a small spell on you. It will be a bit confusing for the first moments, please take your time to accommodate."

Without waiting for her positive or negative reaction he cast his olfactory spell on her, the expression of her face showing clearly that she felt the impact immediately. "That's … astonishing. I smell … the bread … and the fruits and … boa … there are so many odors around."

Bestowing a small smile on her he pulled a vial from his cloak and opened it; hold it under Penelope's nose. "That's … unusual. What's this?" She started to fan herself air, trying to determine the type of odor.

"It is a mix of Asian plant oils. I used it to impregnate shoes … especially Luna Lovegood's shoes."

The shocked faces of a few girls at the table told him that they were realizing where all this was going to. "You know, this smell is a very faint one. Without my spell you wouldn't notice it. On the other hand it is very longtime lingering one once applied."

"And what's the reason of …"

"This is the moment I need your help." He closed the vial and pointed towards the Ravenclaw table, now all eyes lingering on him and Penelope. "Please go around and tell us who has the same smell on his or her hands." He turned around and commanded with a stern voice: "Hands up, Ravenclaws."

With Penelope at his side the boys and girls at the table obeyed and slowly Penelope walked around. "That's stupid," Lisa Turpin declared and started to rise from her chair.

"You …" Penelope pointed towards her. "And you too," another wave now at Mandy Brocklehurst."

"Thank you for your help, Penelope." Addressing the two girls who now started to fidget around Piotr announced with a sorrow voice. "The question is: how comes that you have this smell on your hands? These shoes I gave Luna at Christmas because she likes to be outdoors, searching for all kind of creatures."

Lisa mumbled something, only the word Looney being recognizable. She yelled slightly in panic as a cat – a lynx in reality – jumped on the table and hissed at her.

"Calm down, Tasha," he called her to order. "You see, even Tasha is defending her from the insults. I know that Luna never reacts to this special insult, but I'll do from now on. That she doesn't react doesn't mean that she likes to be called like that. Who would? She considers me to be her friend and I feel honored about that. I can't understand how you're able to see her not the same.

"Lisa … Mandy … you know her since one and a half year. Have you ever experienced her to be unfriendly … to complain about something? Has she ever behaved others than open and helpful? I know that she behaves in a way that most see as a bit weird sometimes and I know that loyalty is a trait that most connect more to Hufflepuffs than to Ravenclaw. But can't you see how lucky you are to have this wonderful girl in your house, a girl that's not only intelligent but also only lives to bring phantasy and happiness to the world?"

It had become very silent around him, the Ravenclaws staring at him, more than one girl looking guilty. Not only those that played pranks on her but others too for not coming to her defense. "I'm very disappointed by you." Even Mandy winced now, only Lisa still trying to look haughty.

Taking a step back Piotr thought for a moment before he asked nobody specially: "You know … these stories of her, these stories you never believed … one of them is about the Thestrals. Certainly you remember her telling about the invisible horses that draw the Hogwarts' coaches." They stayed silent to the words that would have caused giggles only five minutes ago. "If you ever had taken the burden to ask Professor Hagrid, he would have confirmed her story."

Ignoring their wide-eyed glares he turned towards Penelope, who had been watching him with a thoughtful look, thinking about all those complaints she had heard about him from Percy in the past months. "Miss Clearwater, certainly you're able to tell us the condition … the condition someone has to fulfill to be able to see Thestrals."

She nodded gravely: "You have to …" She gulped and forced her voice to remain calm. "You have to witness the death of someone."

Small gasps and hands reaching for their mouths were the reaction to Penelope's words. "Yes, you have to witness … not only hear about but really see, hear, smell … to feel in your heart, the death of someone you care about deeply like your mother … sister …" his voice died away. Forcing a last sentence he continued with a harried voice: "I really hope for you that you'll never be able to see a Thestral."


	14. Chapter 14 Broken Friendship

**Broken Friendship**

_Hogwarts – Hagrid's Shack – February 26__th__ (Saturday)_

Hermione and Piotr had been helping Hagrid with the Salamanders to prepare them for the transport back to their owner. It had been quite interesting to see them in Hagrid's class but now it was time for them to go home. After their work Hagrid offered to make some tea and they decided to spend the time until the Quidditch game with him. Piotr had been very convincing that she needed some time for her own, in silence and without books. He had been right: she felt tired, really tired after these weeks and months with her overflowing schedule.

"Buckbeak looks really content," Hermione assessed, examining the Hippogriff who was living now in the shack. "And his plumage shines."

Hagrid, who was still rummaging in his little kitchen, responded happily: "Piotr has been caring for him. He prepared a few potions I knew about and spent hours with purifying the plumage."

"Oh," Hermione smiled at Piotr, "another talent it seems."

"Maybe," he stared back, crooking his head as he examined something about Hermione.

"Wha … what," she asked, a bit confused by his looked, which only intensified as he pulled her to a chair and pressed her down, grabbed her shoulders to force her to sit upright. "Hold still." He rummaged in his back behind her and a few seconds later he announced. "I wasn't sure about getting the opportunity. But with your comment … you know: my talent not only encompasses plumage caring."

With that weird comment he grabbed a fistful of her bushy, unruly hair and started to slowly and carefully brush it. "Hold still and relax," he ordered as she started to complain. "Close your eyes, relax, relish."

"Yes, mam," she obeyed with a grin.

The next quarter hour he spent brushing her hair and speaking about the Quidditch game three weeks ago, that Slytherin had won against Ravenclaw, and the game they wanted to watch this afternoon. Even they knew – with the boys speaking about nothing else the past week – Gryffindor had to win against Ravenclaw to have a chance for the Quidditch Cup this year, something Professor McGonagall was really eager to achieve after seven years without luck.

"So Harry has his broom back," Piotr asked. As Hermione tensed up he pressed her back and went on with brushing.

"Yes, the broom seems to be okay, no curses or else. And he really wanted to have the broom for the game."

"It was the right decision to examine him. I still share your opinion that the broom could be a present of Sirius Black and which other intention could he have than to harm Harry with it?"

Hermione sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Yes, if only others would see the same."

"They're fools. I'm a bit disappointed by Harry, I admit. He should see at least that you had only his health in mind. That Minerva shared your opinion should tell him that it isn't so far-fetched."

Hagrid shortly looked in their direction but stayed quiet and pretended to be occupied with something in the back of his shack.

For some minutes Hermione was very silent and slowly Piotr started to become concerned. He wasn't sure, standing behind her, but she seemed to be weeping now. "Scabbers, he is away. And Ron thinks that … that Crookshanks had eaten him."

"Nonsense, Crookshanks wouldn't do that. Certainly, he seemed to hate Scabbers but …" Piotr pondered for a while about the rat and the cat. Tasha had shared Crookshanks feeling towards Scabbers, but he wasn't sure about the reason. Perhaps it was because Piotr disliked Scabbers' owner, perhaps it was because Tasha liked Crookshanks. But maybe there were other reasons. "I won't totally omit the possibility that he would kill Scabbers but he wouldn't eat him."

Hermione nodded and turned around. He had been right about the weeping. Piotr gathered another char, sat beside her and pulled her into an embrace, her head on his shoulder. Hermione started to mumble into his sweater. "He even doesn't speak with me anymore. Only when he must and then only monosyllabic."

"Have you told him how much it hurts you?" He had seen the looks she cast Ron's way and even with his dislike about the Weasel he hoped …

"No, he only wants an apology." She bobbed up. "How can I apologize for something …?"

Piotr grabbed her shoulders and locked eyes with Hermione: "You aren't a five-year-old anymore. This friendship has a special meaning for you and for him too if he isn't even more stupid than I think him to be. You can't allow it to break away about a rat and a cat, irrespective how much you like Crookshanks. Sometimes you have to apologize, not because you regret something but to show that you appreciate someone. You know how I think about Ron. I would certainly like more to hit him in the face than to usher one of the most precious girls in Hogwarts in his direction."

Her smile about the face-hitting turned into a blushing as he complimented her but she only nodded without response.

"I know how much you like him." Her eyes widened and her blush intensified. "Today, after the game – when he is victory-partying or lamenting – you'll go to him and apologize." As she tensed he shook his head and continued. "No back talk, Miss Granger, you know exactly that he is too stubborn to jump the fence. It is your job to save this friendship. I expect you to act in a mature way. Do we concur?"

After some moments of silence Hermione showed a little smile and nodded.

.

The game would start in a few minutes. Hagrid had taken a seat apart from the other teachers, a flock of students around him, Hermione, Piotr, Neville, Hannah and Luna being part of that. As the Quidditch teams gathered around Madam Hooch, Luna pointed towards Harry.

"He's quite smitten, don't you think?"

Hermione turned from her to the field and watched the boy-who-lived for a while and really: it was quite obvious that Harry was ogling Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw seeker. The dark-haired beauty was smaller than Harry and of slighter build but belonged to the class one year above. Until now Hermione hadn't really noticed the girl but from the looks Harry shot her she was sure to hear about Cho in the future.

"What do you think will be Ginny's opinion about it?"

Piotr tensed at Luna's words but it was Neville who asked: "Why should it be of any concern to Ginny?"

"It is rather evident that she still adores Harry, isn't it?" Luna stated matter-of-factly.

"What makes you think that?" Hermione asked back. "She hasn't shown any interest in him for months." _To be exactly since the summer break_, Hermione silently added.

"Only because she has been forbidden to do so," Luna responded confidently.

"What," Hermione jumped? "Who should …?

Luna put her index finger against her mouth and pondered: "Her father I think. Perhaps Percy too, she is always asking him what to do. It is quite impossible to do something with her apart from lessons and schoolwork without her asking him for allowance."

Piotr started to fidget on his seat. "He is her elder brother and wants to protect her. If she is content with this behavior …" _But why did he feel so uneasy about it_?

Luna didn't look convinced but Hermione added: "I think … I think that Piotr is right. It is her decision. The last year has been really difficult for her. If she needs someone … a shoulder to lean on … it is her decision. She'll come around. You'll see, not later than next year she'll be her old self again."

.

The Gryffindor common room was overflowing with happy students. They had won against Ravenclaw thanks to Harry's skill as a Seeker and the party now was well underway. Everywhere they were speaking about the game or how Draco Malfoy had tried to interrupt with him, Crabbe and Goyle posing as Dementors. They had been badly surprised as Harry – instead of falling from his broom in fear – simply threw a Patronus spell in their direction and furthermore followed the Snatch. They had needed quite some time to entangle from the costumes they had crafted to look like Dementors. Detention and a fifty point deduction from Slytherin they had earned with the trick from a fuming Professor McGonagall.

The broad and frank smile of Cho certainly sweetened the victory for Harry and he needed a while to really notice the cheering of his co-Gryffindors again or the shoulder-slapping of Percy who had won 10 Galleons from his girlfriend Penelope for the victory.

With cotton candy and lemonade overall Hermione nearly had toothache thinking about her parents. What would they think about this party being dentists both? Slowly she found her way thru the masses towards Ron, who was standing on a table and narrating for the umpteenth time how Harry outmaneuvered Cho and caught the Snatch.

As she nearly reached him, he used just that moment to lament: "If Scabbers would be with us and not be eaten, he could have some of these cotton candy flies he loved so much."

Hermione stopped cold in her tracks, tears starting to show in her eyes. Harry, noticing the whole mess, addressed Ron bitterly: "Can't you leave her alone a single time?"

Ron shook his head but before he could say something Hermione plucked up the courage to go the last few steps. Without her touch to his leg he would have overheard her first words. "Ron," she started, "I'm sorry."

Ron, who for a moment wanted to snap back, realized her tone of voice and went down to his knees on the table. "I'm really sorry about Scabbers. I should have heard …" Gently lifting her chin he was aghast to see tears running freely down her cheeks and impulsively pulled her into an embrace. "Sorry, Hermione, I was a git the last days. It was only an old rat."

Ignoring the tumult around him Harry watched his two best friends, pondering about the change. Knowing how stubborn both could be, knowing how senseless his tries at persuading Ron had been, he asked himself about the reason for Hermione's apology. But for now he was content to see them together again … friends forever.

.

_Hogwarts – Great Hall – February 28__th__ (Monday Morning)_

The whole Sunday had been a real uproar. Among the Gryffindors there was only one theme: the nightly attack of Sirius Black. Was it a kind of bad joke or a nature's law: after some happiness like the Quidditch win there had to be something bad again?

In the middle of the night Ron had awakened the other boys because Sirius appeared beside his bed, shredding the curtain and running away as he saw some other boy than Harry sleeping there. All were dead certain that he had tried to murder Harry in his sleep and only luck had denied him success.

How had he been able to enter the dormitory? Sir Cadogan, the picture guarding the entrance, had an answer to that question: Sirius was able to say the password, read off from a small piece of paper. Professor McGonagall had been furious as she learned that no other than poor Neville had lost that paper. How could he be so stupid to note the passwords for the whole week and lose it? Denying any further visit of Hogsmeade, a detention and ordering the other Gryffindors not to say him the Gryffindor password for the next time had been his penalty.

Piotr had tried to convince her otherwise, told her that it wasn't Neville to blame that Sir Cadogan switched the password every few hours. That it couldn't be expected that Sirius was able to bypass the Dementors and the Troll-Patrol. Perhaps he could have spoken a tad more politely? Anyhow there was no reasoning with her and Neville was devastated.

As Piotr entered the Great Hall on Monday morning the attack was still topic of the day.

"Piotr," Harry rose from the bank, stepping towards him and speaking silently enough to deny Ron and Hermione the opportunity to listen. "Thank you."

"For what," Piotr asked, still not really pleased with Harry?

"Hermione, she told me what you said to her … about Ron and their quarrel I mean. She had apologized and … they're ok again. I think without your words …"

Certainly Piotr's reaction was a bit surprising for Harry. Instead of something along 'you're welcome' he answered with narrowed eyes: "As far as I'm concerned Ron could rot under some rock. But Hermione was miserable because that bloke was unwilling to trust the girl that should be one of his best friends. And her other best friend was unable to bring about peace between them."

Ignoring Harry's blushing and gulping Piotr furthermore scolded him: "Had Hermione told you that I was disappointed that you obviously reacted so badly about the issue with the broom? Is it so very difficult to see that she spoke with Professor McGonagall to protect your life? Is that damned Quidditch really more important than your health or your friendship? Yes, the broom seems to be safe, but it could have been different. Do you have an idea how she would have felt if she had stayed silent and some curse had come into effect during the Quidditch game? She really cares for you and you're pouting"

Slowly he talked himself into a rage. "And the reaction about Scabbers … it is that simple to side with Ron instead of trying to find the truth. Believing that the cat killed that blasted rat … how could you? Hadn't you wondered that there weren't any more hints, only a bit of blood, no fur remains, no bones? Only to side with Ron because he is the more stubborn and the louder of them both is a very weak excuse. Sorry, Harry, normally I really like you, but in this matter … as long as you act this poorly towards Hermione I give a damn about your thanks."

Was it his high level of adrenaline after the tilt with Harry? As he passed Neville the owls were delivering the morning post. He needed only the announcement of Ron "better run, Neville" and a single look at the red envelope of the Howler Neville's grandma had been sending to spring into action. Before Neville had a chance to react Piotr grabbed the letter with the left and a bowl with apples with his right hand. Ignoring the stares and shouts of the Gryffindors around he emptied the bowl, turned it around and put it on the table, the howler below. With a broad grin and as if it would be the most normal action he took a seat on the bowl.

He wasn't surprised that only Hermione started to act instead of staring wide-eyed in his direction or that she was able to cast a silencio on the bowl, something that others only learned in the fifth year. Seconds later the Howler as expected detonated, certainly burning the table cloth a bit and some smoke left the bowl.

"Oh, sorry, shouldn't have eaten that beans yesterday," Piotr grinned around, before he left the place, clasping his hand on Neville's shoulder: "See you later, alligator."


	15. Chapter 15 Private Tutoring

**Private Tutoring**

_Hogwarts – Hospital Wing – April 23rd 1994 (Saturday)_

"No, Hermione, no," Piotr stopped his friend and with a deep and disappointed sigh Hermione let her wand sink. That she had missed the lesson of Professor Flitwick about the Cheering Charm – she had been found by Ron and Harry sleeping over an Arithmancy book, which forced another scolding about her learning too much – had been bad enough. But now she had some dire problems to learn the spell. Piotr had been trying to teach her how to do the spell but she never found the right level to cast it. Sometimes Neville – who was playing the guinea pig – felt nearly nothing and on other tries Piotr had to cancel an overeager spell.

"You should try harder to keep on task, Hermione. You're not really concentrated," Piotr scolded.

And he was right, Hermione had to admit. Her mind was on the events Harry had told her about.

.

_Instead of behaving like the obedient student he never had been he had left Hogwarts this morning, disregarding not only the direct order of Minerva but also threatening his own life with Sirius Black somewhere waiting for him. Under the cover of his invisibility cloak he used a secret passage to visit Hogsmeade. Certainly the hours in the village, discovering all these new things and eating the offered delicacies, had been nice for Ron and him. But as expected something had happened. A small quarrel with Malfoy and his underlings, a false move and Harry was unveiled. Malfoy – for lack of anything better to do – hastily returned to Hogwarts and informed Professor Snape who was able to fetch Harry on his return as he tried to sneak back into the school._

_At least Harry had been prudent enough to hide the cloak but Snape detected the Marauder's Map. Luckily he wasn't able to read the map and Professor Lupin acted fast enough to fetch the map before was able to burn it. But Lupin hadn't been pleased with Harry's action – an opinion Hermione certainly shared – and he kept the map._

.

"Professor Snape …" Hermione started, breaking Piotr's concentration. „He told Harry about something his father allegedly did. A while ago Headmaster Dumbledore told us that James Potter sometimes rescued Snape, saved his life. But Snape told Harry today, that this is only half of the story. He said that James' friends played Snape a dangerous prank, something which would have killed him. And James only rescued him to save his own hide and his friends."

"That's believable," Piotr responded after some moments of thinking. "Dumbledore likes James and Harry too, that's obvious. It is reasonable to expect that he isn't always telling the truth or the complete truth. I know that you trust him and more or less I would do that too. But certainly he is able and willing to bend the truth a bit now and then. And Snape … he hates the Gryffindors and especially Harry. But he isn't a liar. If he told Harry about this prank than I would believe that it is true at least in his sight of the events. Perhaps James Potter's friends played him a dangerous trick. Perhaps they underestimated the danger and James tried to save Snape and his friends. And now Snape is thinking that James knew about the prank from the start. Without knowledge about the exact nature of that prank we can't really judge what happened."

They spent another hour training the spell and now Hermione was able to concentrate better. At the end she was halfway content about the result and was just thinking about ending the lesson as an owl reached the Hospital Wing with a small note from Hagrid. It was quite obvious that something terrible had happened as Hermione clasped her hand on her mouth and a sob left her throat.

Waving Piotr and Neville to give her some moments she tried hard to gather her balance again, but to no avail. The sobs and shuddering of her shoulders only intensified. At last Piotr simply fetched the note from her trembling hands and read to Neville with a low and dire voice: "Buckbeak, he had been judged. He is to be executed."

.

Wiping away her tears more or less successful Hermione started to run around in the passages of Hogwarts, searching for Ron and Harry with Piotr and Neville following her close behind. It was a loud voice that tore her to the corridor near the Great Hall, the voice of Malfoy who had started to tell his underlings Crabbe and Goyle about the success of his father at the court. Harry and Ron stood near the trio, clenching fists but until now their self-control holding yet.

"You should have seen how Hagrid had been sniveling at the verdict. I've never seen something more pathetic. And he is supposed to be a teacher."

With an angry scream Hermione hurled herself in Malfoy's direction. Crabbe, who tried to intercept her was pushed away by Piotr and could only watch as Hermione reached his leader.

"Bastard," without any hesitation and as hard as possible Hermione slapped him, his cheek turning very red from the hit. Screaming she tried to hit him furthermore and Ron needed all his strength to hold here back, his eyes wide and full of adoration and wonder.

"Scram!" Piotr told Malfoy with a dark voice. „I hope your father is proud of you and your lies. With your false accusation you sentenced a peaceful creature to death. You've been a real Malfoy again." With glowing eyes he turned to Crabbe and Goyle. "You should go missing too before Hermione shows you why she's called the brightest witch of Hogwarts and hexes you to oblivion."

Only seconds later nothing was visible from the three Slytherins, nothing but that picture in Piotr's mind of the hurt and insecure expression of Draco.

.

_Hogwarts – Library – May 15th 1994 (Sunday)_

Hermione looked up as someone put a cup of hot chocolate on the small table at her side. Exhausted she nodded in Piotr's direction and wanted to look down into her book again as she noticed his grin.

"Something happened," she asked, wishing nothing more than to have some peace. The Easter Holidays were ending today and only two weeks were left until the examinations. Percy would undergo his NEWT, Fred and George were ready for the OWL but nobody was as nervous as Hermione.

She had lost the day before to the final game of the Quidditch season. Yes, it had been sweet to watch Cho wishing Harry luck. And the game had been interesting. The Slytherins had tried all in their might to win, resorting to all type of dirty tricks and fouls. Malfoy had even once hexed Harry's broom to prevent his Snatch fetching. But in the end the Gryffindors had won with just enough points to also win the Quidditch Cup. For the first time since eight years they had been able to beat the Slytherins again. The party had been underway the whole night and Hermione had to use a Pepper Up Potion to awaken her muddled mind.

"I heard something about a girl leaving the divination lessons. Something about 'stick your scrying orb into …' you know something about it?" Piotr grinned broadly now.

"I never said something like that," Hermione protested not very convincingly. "I only told her that I had enough and wanted to finish with her lessons."

"Good," Piotr nodded," very bright … no: very wise of you."

"What," Hermione wondered. "You don't … I don't know: scold me, mock me or something?"

"Err, why should I? If you haven't realized so far: Professor McGonagall and I share the same opinion in at least one point … okay, in two points, the other being her opinion about you: we both are … reluctant in regard of Divination. I think it should be a small class for the really talented … irrespective of talent in Divination being something good or more a kind of insult."

His comment caused Hermione to smile shortly. "Lavender and Parvati are her darlings so far. Both hang on every word of her."

Piotr sighed. „I heard so. If they like it, it is ok for me. At least you're now nearly at a livable schedule again. Perhaps you could omit Muggle Lore too. You already know so much about that and Ancient Runes and Arithmancy are obviously more … no, not more important, but I think they're better suited for your intellect."

"Do you mean?" Hermione pondered, her expression switching to something near depression, "because I'm the brightest witch and all?"

Piotr narrowed his eyes. "No, because both subjects are something suited for your analytical mind and better taught in the class room while Muggle Lore is better to experience in real life." For a while he stared at Hermione, thinking about her comment. "By the way: you are the brightest witch, but you know that this isn't the reason for your friends to enjoy your presence? Certainly, sometimes it is really helpful to have your intellect around but it is your other … features …" he smiled shortly "that causes us to harass you all the time."

Hermione sighed. "I don't know. I often have the impression that I'm always reduced to my mind as if there is nothing else about me. "

"Rubbish," Piotr responded with deep conviction. "Bravery, loyalty, temperament as even Malfoy could affirm …" another small smile of Hermione showed on her lips "a trustful sense of duty, a sometimes a bit too dry sense of humor, honesty …" Hermione tried to stop his praising, her cheeks slowly blushing a bit. "And not to forget your beauty … at least if you allow me to brush your hair more often and you finally start to use the hair potion I crafted for you," he ended with a mild reprimand. "Is this point clarified now, Miss Granger," Piotr grinned at her and Hermione smiled back halfway convinced.

"Good. Now back to work, don't forget to drink your chocolate and at ten o'clock it is time for some real sleep."

"Yes mom," Hermione agreed with a more convincing smile.


	16. Chapter 16 I'm not my Father

**I'm not my Father**

_Hogwarts – Library – June 4th 1994 (Sunday Evening)_

Another afternoon in the library neared its end, another afternoon with Hermione reading a book, this one about Arithmancy again, one of the few subjects she wasn't outstanding with but 'only' excellent. Tomorrow would start the week of examinations: four days, twelve tests … no, only eleven she corrected herself because she had decided to omit Divination.

Neville was sitting beside her, trying to learn something about Transfiguration, another one of the exams on Monday.

But it was the end of this week, the Thursday afternoon that caused her the most terror. Ron had been surprising to them all, preparing the appeal, the second trial for Buckbeak, with an unknown fervor. The commission of the ministry was expected at Thursday midday and they would bring with them the executioner. Again Hermione's mind drifted away from her book towards the fate of the Hippogriff.

A slender hand grabbed the book Hermione was still holding but not reading in and put it back in her bag, doing the same with Neville's book a few seconds later.

With a grin Hannah Abbott declared: "You're expected in the Great Hall" and not waiting for any kind of response or complaint she simply turned around and left the library again, carrying both bags with her. Stunned Neville and Hermione locked eyes for a moment before small smiles crept in their faces and they followed her.

"Who's expecting us," Hermione asked, unlike Neville not knowing Hannah well enough to anticipate her single answer: a crooked smile. Quickly but not running they absolved the distance to the Great Hall where a great number of students was already eating dinner. Hannah headed for a small table near the main Hufflepuff table in a small alcove with six chairs around, one of them looking like a chair restaurants used for infants. Luna was already sitting at the table and smiled dreamily towards them and waved them to sit down.

The table was ready laid for dinner, the plates and flatware in front of the infant chair being smaller too. The bread in the middle emitted a beautiful scent, reminding Hermione that she had forgotten to eat lunch. The butter looked interestingly reddish and without a further note Luna started to break the bread and put some of the butter on it, reaching the pieces around. As Hermione started to complain, ask or something Luna simply put one of the pieces in her open mouth. There was nothing else to do than to test it and the bread was still better than the scent and the butter tasted like paprika.

Ignoring Hermione and Neville Luna explained to Hannah: "he isn't yet ready and ordered us to eat some bread until he serves."

Waiting for a few minutes in more or less munching silence they startled as Piotr appeared with a small female house elf at his side. The elf was wearing a cute light blue apron and started to distribute soup dishes while Piotr followed her and filled the dishes with a sour smelling soup from a large terrine, ending at the small chair where the elf took a seat herself and got her own soup.

"May I introduce: this is Ciddy, one of the house elves of Hogwarts and kindly my helper today. Ciddy, these are Hermione, Luna, Hannah and Neville." The elf showed a surprisingly large smile with surprisingly crooked teeth.

"I thought with all the stress in preparation of the examination you'll need a nice evening with a good dinner." Looking around he continued not fully convinced. "At least I hope it will be good, I'm not the cook my uncle used to be." He pointed towards the soup: "This is called Soljanka. Immediately before serving you put together Schtschi – kraut and sour cream – with Rassolnik – gherkins and broth from cucumbers. Apart from the rumors it is not a traditional dish from my home but widespread in all of Eastern Europe."

More or less forced to speak about the dishes and not the examinations and really relishing the very unusual meal Hermione was quite happy to relax for the following two hours. After the Soljanka Piotr showed them Wareniki – cooked dumplings filled with a variety of potatoes, meat, fruits and mushrooms. He rounded the dinner with Syrniki, small balls created from quark dough, with Warenje, a kind of unsweetened jam.

Thankfully he served some water and fruit juice for drinking as well because the offered Kwas – a fermented drink from rye and malt – was not to everyone's liking, the face of Neville causing a fit of laughter from Piotr.

The other students had long left the Great Hall before the small group of friends finished at last, all very relaxed and full. Even Ciddy seemed to be very happy and shyly shook hands with Piotr and Hermione. As the last order of the day Piotr decreed a long walk before sleeping "We don't want some nightmares or something" and distributed small vials. "This is in case that someone can't stomach the unusual dishes. I wish you a good night."

.

"Kamenew," returning from his walk after he followed his own advice Piotr turned around to the hidden speaker and was a bit surprised to see Malfoy waiting for him, especially him being without his usual escort of Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy. With a sigh, shortly thinking about going on and ignoring the boy, Piotr stepped nearer. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"You're wrong … about me I mean," Draco Malfoy hesitantly expressed his opinion.

"About what," Piotr talked back, nearly spitting the words.

"About me and the Hippogriff," Malfoy responded, slowly getting a bit angry. "And about … I'm not my father, you know? "

"You're sure," Piotr asked mockingly? With Malfoy obviously unsure about how to go on and pondering about the reason why he was here in the first place, Piotr had some time to think about the Slytherin. With a sigh he started to explain: "You know … in the beginning I didn't want to believe what I heard about the Slytherins. The devious, the sneaky, the cruel … all that seemed to be too simple. As I'm not simply the loyal, diligent bore …" he responded to Malfoy's broad grin with his own slim smile "so I expected the Slytherins to be more complex too. And I think at least Pansy had proven to be more than a bad-mouthed bitch everyone sees in her." His smile broadening Piotr continued: "Yes, she is a bad-mouthed bitch, at least sometimes. But she is able to jump the fence from time to time. I hoped you could do the same."

„This blasted Hippogriff had bitten me, he has to be punished."

"Perhaps he has," Piotr responded calmly," but … Hagrid told you about how to behave and you willingly disobeyed him. A Hippogriff hasn't the ability to talk back, to respond to an insult with his own. 'Big ugly beast' is nothing a proud creature wants to be called. And he only bit you in the arm; he could have done lot worse." Rising his hand to order Malfoy to stay quiet he continued: "You have exaggerated before the court. That isn't lying but very close. You exaggerated about the attack, the danger and the wound and these exaggerations sentenced Buckbeak to a penalty that isn't suitable in any way. I understand that you had been angry after the attack and demanded punishment. But now, months later … why do you still demand his death? Do you hate Hagrid so much? I know that you don't respect him – something I consider quite stupid by itself – but do you really hate him this much that you want to hurt him with the death of an innocent creature?"

Staring at Malfoy in silence for a while he asked him: "Or is your father the reason for your behavior? Do you want to impress him with your … revengefulness, resolve and cruelness? You say that you aren't your father, that you're your own person. Proof it and I'll believe you."

.

_Hogwarts – Library – June 7th 1994 (Wednesday Afternoon)_

Three days of the examinations they had survived so far, three grueling days of nervous tension. The friends – this time without Luna – sat together in a quiet corner of the Hospital Wing after they fled the overcrowded library.

"That you had been that good in Potions and Neville in Herbs I can understand so far," Hermione suddenly broke the silence. "But that you reached better marks than me in Ancient Runes …"

Neville and Hannah grinned. Arithmancy, Transfiguration, Charms and Ancient Runes had been the examinations on Monday and since then Piotr's better marks in that subject had been a sore point for Hermione, even if she had – not surprisingly – surpassed him in the other subjects, even in Charms, something that irritated Piotr then again because he had been the one who taught her the tested spell, the cheering charm. Care of magical Creatures, Potions and Astronomy had followed on Tuesday and today they had been examined in History of Magic and Herbs, where Neville had his great hour. And tomorrow they would end the week with Defense against Dark Arts, Muggle Lore and – at least for Neville and Hannah – Divination.

"It is really simple," Piotr started to explain. Hannah tried hard not to snigger because she sensed something mischievous ahead. "You're simply not diligent enough for Ancient Runes. You see: Ancient Runes has nothing to do with intellect, it is all about diligence, so the simple conclusion is …" He stopped his rambling with a small cry as Hermione punched him hard against the shoulder, but at least her smile told him that she had noticed his bad humor.

"Piotr," Hannah interrupted, "you never told how your examination in the healing arts has been."

"Oh yes, I've totally forgotten about that," Hermione admitted. "You had your examination on Monday as we others sat on Transfiguration, yes?"

Piotr nodded, allowing himself to smile a bit. "It had been quite interesting. With Madam Pomfroy being my guardian we thought it would be better to have an exterior examiner. So she bade St. Mungo to send someone. Madam Rosmelda Prewett seemed to me to be a very stern but fair examiner. By the way she is somehow related to Mrs. Weasley, Cousin second grade or something. We spoke about the specialties of caring for students around the first and second class, very fair if you ask me because that had been the cases Madam Pomfroy mostly left to me. Potion use for them, home remedies, how to detect pretended diseases" Piotr sniggered. "And I had to cast a few spells to prove that my inabilities don't interfere with my healing skills."

"That sounds really interesting," Hermione admitted. "And what had been the result of your examinations if I may ask?"

Before he had time to answer Madam Pomfroy stepped at his side and put her hands on his shoulders. "He got and O and it had been well deserved." As Piotr blushed and his friends started to cheer she added: "And she accepted him for an internship in St. Mungo's children's ward in the summer quarter."

"Woah, that's really … wow," Piotr leaned against Madam Pomfroy, enjoying the excitement of his friends for a while, relishing these happy moments before they had to go to sleep and prepare for the last day of the examinations and the day of Buckbeak's trial.

.

_**A/N:**_

_And now it is really time for the finale. Harry dying, Ron switching to the dark side and all the other things I had in mind. Ups, sorry, revealed too much I fear. _


	17. Chapter 17 Truths of all Kinds Part 1

**Truths of all Kinds (Part 1)**

_Hogwarts – Hagrid's Shack – June 8th 1994 (Thursday Early Evening) Hermione's POV_

I stored the note away.

_Appeal lost. They execute him at sundown. You can do nothing more. Don't come. I don't want you to see that._

_Hagrid_

The message from Hagrid had been clear. Just as clear had been the decision to ignore him and go to the shack this evening. But how should we do that? We wouldn't be allowed to go there, especially Harry. And his invisibility cloak …

"The cloak is still in the secret corridor behind the Witch's Hump Statue. But if Snape sees me there another time …"

"Stay here, Harry, I'll go" before he had time to express his concern I was on my way, but not directly to the corridor entrance. No, Snape had to be distracted and I knew someone for exactly this job.

.

With the help of Piotr, who had simply started a lengthy discussion with Snape about some obscure potions – obscure even for my reasoning – it had been child's play to fetch the cloak. The way to Hagrid's shack had been more difficult. Even with the cloak there was always the danger of someone stumbling over us or some troll-guard smelling us.

Hagrid's sight was heart-melting. In spite of his former order he seemed to be relieved to have us around in this dark hour. His hands trembled as he tried to fetch us some milk and cake. He even let the milk jug slip, dispersing the shards and milk on the ground.

"Buckbeak is outdoors, behind the pumpkin patch. I thought he would like to see the trees and smell fresh air and …" Never before had I seen him like this. "Dumbledore tried all in his might but this terrible Lucius Malfoy … and the executioner, Mcnair, is an old buddy of Malfoy."

"Scabbers," Ron's scream broke the depressed mood. For a moment I thought him to be mad but really: In an empty jug was Scabbers hiding. And he seemed very much frightened, unwilling to be fetched, even biting into Ron's hand to have an escape. With lightning speed he left the shack, simply slipping under the closed door, with us short behind. It was amazing how fast this old, scrawny rat was able to run. For a moment I stopped as I saw Buckbeak. Torn between going to him and following my friends I decided for the easier way and turned away from the dreadful sight. Nearly blind with tears I followed Harry and Ron across the compound of Hogwarts.

Where was Scabbers heading for? Suddenly another hunter appeared … Crookshanks. Leaving his hideout between the bushes he tried to reach Scabbers before Ron did and from his stance it was clear to me that he would try to kill him. Why was my little sweet tomcat so murderous with regard to this poor rat?

To my relief Ron proved to be faster and fetched Scabbers, hastily turning around to kick Crookshanks away, something I couldn't hold against him in this moment, seeing how he was eyeing Scabbers.

Sundown was now setting in. How could it be so late? The screams and fluttering of birds following the sound of a large axe cutting deep within a wood block caused us to turn around, too frightened to speak about what had happened a second ago. He was really dead. Mcnair had killed Buckbeak. They had done it, they had killed that poor …

Something large and black suddenly jumped Ron from behind and before we had time to realize what happened, a Grimm – this night black dog as large as a pony had to be one – snapped into Ron's leg and tore him screaming and yelling away. Shocked I shook my head, trying hard to clear my mind. Too much had happened in the last thirty minutes. Buckbeak dead, Ron abducted. Harry had reacted faster and followed the Grimm, who was pulling Ron like a doll towards the Whomping Willow. What had he in mind, why was he heading there?

Without stopping the Grimm reached the Willow, somehow able to pacify the aggressive tree, and disappeared in a fissure between the roots. Seconds later we reached the tree too only to notice the branches coming to life again and trying to hit us.

"We have to follow him, we have to …" Harry tried to escape my grip, unwilling to heed my warnings about the tree.

"Harry, we have to call help, we can't …"

"No, we have to go now; Ron hasn't the time to wait for help." Harry jerked himself free but before he reached the tree Crookshanks outpaced him and put his little paw on a knot of the tree. Instantly the tree came to a rest, allowing us to enter the fissure too.

"Your tomcat is … very … unusual," Harry uttered insecurely and I could only nod.

.

Following Crookshanks in nervous silence we had to go a long time thru the corridor and more than once I asked myself what the destination could be. The room we suddenly entered, the wands built from wood and a thick layer of dust everywhere except a trail of dog traces was a first hint. Slowly we followed the trail and I whispered in Harry's ear: "We're in the Shrieking Shack." He only nodded and went upstairs, the squeaky stairs making any try of stalking impossible.

"Ron," I screamed and stormed towards Ron who was lying on the ground beside a large four-poster bed, alone but wounded. His leg protruded in an odd angle, obviously broken.

"Where is the dog, Ron," Harry asked, thinking more clearly than me about the basic facts, "where is the dog?"

"No dog," Ron whispered pointing towards the door, "he isn't a dog but an Animagus."

Shocked we turned around to see the door closing, hiding behind it a man with a gaunt face and haggard body. The clothes were old and threadbare, the eyes full of madness: Sirius Black.

.

"I've attacked a teacher; I've casted an Expelliarmus against a teacher and knocked him out" shocked I mumbled to myself, following Harry thru the corridor. If Minerva would ask me now what had happened in the Howling Shack, I would be unable to coherently explain. Pictures were swimming in my once so ordered mind.

The confused conversation with Sirius … Harry who wanted to kill him … Crookshanks jumping on Sirius breast to protect the madman … Lupin, teacher and werewolf, the one man I trusted and protected, now proving to be an old friend of Sirius. Snape came into the room with hate in his eyes and eager to capture Sirius and perhaps Lupin too for helping Sirius. Harry, Ron and I had acted the same way, casting an Expelliarmus his way, knocking Snape out cold, unable to really believe what we did.

One look ahead at Sirius and Harry … one look back at the shackled Peter Pattygrew … that was all I needed to know that we had done the right thing: yes, Peter Pettygrew, former friend of James Potter, turning traitor, helping to kill Harry's parents before he pretended his own death to put the blame on Sirius. It had been his deeds that put Sirius into the prison of Azkaban while Peter lived for more than ten years under the cover of a rat. Why had he done this, why had he betrayed his friend? How acquired Charles Weasley Scabbers, why had he never tried to live somewhere else as a human again? What kind of a mind was able and willing to live as a rat for all this time?

Harry had prevented Peter's death thru the hands of Sirius and Lupin, not because he valued his life so much but because he had been convinced that his father wouldn't have desired his friends to become murderers. Now he was following them in shackles, the floating and still unconscious Professor Snape at his side. What would the teacher think about all this? Somehow I was convinced that Snape wouldn't believe this all even seeing Peter at his side.

"Harry," I heard Sirius lowly start to speak, "did you know that … your parents, they wanted me to be your godfather and guardian. I understand I you don't want this but if you ever … if you want to live somewhere else, not with your Aunt … you could live with me."

Harry was very quiet for some minutes and I felt the shock working thru his body. But it was a positive shock as I knew, the feeling of having another home, not the one he feared and hated so much since years.

"I would understand if you rather like to live with …"

"You're mad? Naturally I would love to live with you. Do you have a house? When could I move in?" Harry shaking voice showed only happiness about this turn of events.

In seconds Sirius' face relaxed and he showed a very happy smile. For the first time since long years he had a hope and a future again.

.

As we left the tunnel a magic sight awaited us. The silvery orb of a full moon was bathing the country in his light.

A scary growl made my blood run cold and I turned towards Professor Lupin, seeing for the first time a human changing into a werewolf. "Back away," Sirius took a place in front of us, assuming the form of a Grimm again. Growling and snapping the dog and the wolf started to circle each other. The wolf attacked, the dog evaded, tried to enlarge the distance to us and within moments they had left the sight, only the terrible noises of their fight permeating the night.

"Harry," our reaction came too late. Peter had used the distraction to grab Ron's wand and free himself. The Expelliarmus was too slow. An Animagus was able to switch his form without a wand and only the picture of a grinning Peter Pettygrew was left behind as a rat vanished in the bushes.

"We can't find him now in the night, Hermione," Harry hold me back. "We have to help Sirius."

The noises, the growling and the snapping twigs showed us the way towards the lake. Hoping that the wounded Ron and the unconscious Snape would be alright we hurried towards the lake, not really thinking about how we should be able to render harmless an angry werewolf.

The night was very cold now, colder than it should be. There, near the edge of the lake, we saw the form of an unconscious man: Sirius. Far and wide there was no sign of Lupin but …

"Away, leave him alone," while I stopped cold in my tracks, totally shocked by the appearance of a dozen Dementors around us, Harry staggered towards his Godfather, emitting light with his wand, hoping crazily to hold them back. Slowly they started to encircle them and me too as I gathered my courage again and went at Harry's side.

"We have to cast a Patronus," Harry explained with a shaking voice. I was only able to nod weakly. I had never learned to cast that spell, had only a vague idea. Colder and colder it got around us, the Dementors starting to drain our warmth, our positive emotions and our souls away. Only a weak fizzling light left my wand. Never before had I felt this useless.

My limbs went numb; my mind was muddy as I slowly and against my will crumbled to the ground. Harry was still sitting at Sirius side, still trying to cast a Patronus. A brilliant light … a form like a horse … for a moment the Dementors retreated. Would it be enough? I couldn't think about this question anymore because my mind slipped into unconsciousness. I could only hope.

.

_**A/N**_

_The next chapter describes these events from Piotr's POV. I decided to not fully describe the events in the Howling Shack because it would simply be a copy of 30 pages from the book, much too long and complicated to do more than this simple summary._

_The differences to the original story I'll describe in the next chapter. And by the way: I never liked the Time-Turner-Solution. _


	18. Chapter 18 Truths of all Kinds Part 2

**Truths of all Kinds (Part 2)**

_Hogwarts – June 8th 1994 (Thursday Early Evening) Piotr's POV_

I returned the note to Hermione.

_Appeal lost. They execute him at sundown. You can do nothing more. Don't come. I don't want you to see that._

_Hagrid_

"I assume that you'll ignore his plea," I asked her with a small smile. She responded with a harrumph and bade me to distract Snape for half an hour. "I only want to go somewhere and he …"

"He should be elsewhere for a while."

"Yes, something along these lines. Thank you, Piotr."

.

As I reached the potions classroom Draco Malfoy left the room, his face showing signs of jadedness to my surprise. Noticing me he seemed to ponder for a moment to ignore me and go on, but then he stopped and mumbled: "I'm sorry. I tried to … I spoke with my father but he said that it is too late now, that we can't … that it would damage our reputation if I'd revoke my testimony."

"I understand," I replied blandly. "Really, I do, Draco." He looked up as I used his forename. "But … think about it yourself: what a kind of reputation is it than disallows you to do the honorable? What kind of reputation wouldn't allow you to execute justice? Which friends do your father wants to impress that rate mercy as weakness? I neither judge you or your father, simply because I don't know your uprising, your history. It is your own to think about these questions. You're fourteen now, time to consider your future."

.

Excusing my absence to Aunt Poppy with a pretended grief – no, it wasn't really pretended, but the fact that the grief would cause inactivity – I left the Hospital Wing thru a small window of my working room, stalked around the castle and neared Hagrid's shack half an hour before the sunset. I would be a hypocrite and a coward to speak to Draco or to scold Harry as I had done and now to hide in my room, leaving Hagrid alone in his sorrow and to betray Buckbeak.

If I would get caught this would certainly end my 'career' at Hogwarts but I simply couldn't stand back; I couldn't watch this injustice to happen. And I couldn't expect Hermione to do this. Leaving Hogwarts would mean leaving all what was important for her. Knowledge was her breath of life, an eviction would destroy her.

The smell … I smiled in my cover. It had been a good idea to cast the spell again. The trio may be invisible but ... I tipped against my nose. Perhaps I should invest my spare time in the learning of a similar spell for my hearing, I pondered while I watched the trio enter the shack. Now I had to wait again. In a little while the delegation of the ministry should arrive.

Surprised I looked around as some twigs were broken near me. "You're too trusting about your nose spell, Kamenew," Draco's familiar voice sounded. "I only had to near from the downwind side."

I waved him to go down beside me and whispered impressed: "I'll try to remember that the next time. Thank you for the hint, Malfoy."

He grinned back, the joy not reaching his eyes as he looked towards the tethered Hippogriff. I followed his stare. "It is a proud creature indeed. It demands respect and does not hesitate to defend itself against attacks or insults. In a way it would be a real good second heraldic animal for Slytherin, don't you think so?"

Ignoring my statement he simply asked: "You'll free him when the delegation is inside, to free Hagrid from any suspicions?"

"That was my idea." Staring at him and pondering about his reasons to be here I continued: "I could use an assistant, preferably someone with no obvious connection to me, to delay the delegation inside."

"Delaying any meaningful actions is my second forename," Draco grinned back before he left our hide and started to circle the shack. Some minutes later – the sun nearing the horizon now – the shack's door flew open and the trio left it in a hurry, running … it seemed as if they were following someone invisible or very small. I hadn't time to wonder about their weird action because now a small but important group neared from the castle: Lucius Malfoy was leading the procession, behind him Dumbledore escorting the Minister Fudge himself and behind … that had to be this Executioner Mcnair. They entered the shack and – noticing Draco running towards the shack too – I hurried to Buckbeak. If Draco betrayed me now …

.

He hadn't.

Sitting in my lair, an old and unused barn near the castle, I watched Buckbeak eating the meat I had stashed here before. Why had he helped me? Had I touched something in his soul? I didn't want to assume too much and certainly he didn't want me to tell others what he had done, but perhaps …

What should I do now? I hadn't really thought about this, thought about how to find a permanent hide for Buckbeak. And I couldn't ask Hagrid, couldn't burden his conscience. Furthermore he wasn't very good at keeping a secret.

With a start I stood up as I heard a sustained howl. _Lupin, it had to be him_.

.

The noises were leading me towards the Whomping Willow. Something … someone was fighting there. The sight would be funny if not for the fighting noises further away and the danger of the not very far Willow. On the ground rested Ron, leaning against a tree stump, one leg splinted. Near him and one yard above the ground hovered Professor Snape, horizontally and perhaps stunned. I stopped, pondered for a moment but Ron's evil eye tipped the balance towards Snape.

Banning the levitation and the stunning spell I helped him to get up. Obviously he had been conscious for a while but unable to act, something what was pissing him off very badly as I heard very clearly now.

Trying to soothe him I pointed towards the lake where the last noises of the fight now died down. "Professor Lupin I assume?"

"Yes," Snape confirmed with an angry snarl. "And this murderer Sirius too, he is a …"

"An Animagus I assume," I continued, ignoring the interjections of Ron who said something about Sirius not being a murderer and the real one hiding as a rat and Sirius trying to defend them.

As expected Snape wasn't convinced in the slightest, but I ended any discussion with a forceful demand: "No time to hassle now. For Ron's leg I can't do anything now, but we have to look after the others. With a Werewolf and an Animagus out there Harry and Hermione are in danger."

To my complete surprise Snape didn't hesitate to follow my demand and started to head towards the lake. His short look towards me only caused an angry grin: "Forget it, I don't stay behind."

.

Three bodies following us in levitation, one of them shackled, all three unconscious, we were heading towards the Hospital wing. Only Sirius had any wounds, Harry and Hermione seemed to be only very tired and drained from the attacks of the Dementors.

"Why ..." I hesitated.

"You want to know why I saved them," Snape asked and I could only nod weakly.

Reaching the lake we had seen the diminishing light of a Patronus spell and the last one of the three – Harry – crumbling to the ground. The Dementors around them had backed down but now they were encircling their victims again. Knowing full well that I had no chance to banish them I nonetheless started to run in Hermione's direction, trying to rescue at least her, even if that meant to sacrifice the other two.

But then something astonishing happened, something I had never expected neither him doing this nor in this form. Another Patronus spell was casted, casted from Snape. And the form … I didn't dare to ask how he, a Slytherin, no … THE SLYTHERIN … had chosen a Patronus in the form of a doe. A panther I would have expected, a snake or a hawk, but a doe?

Whatever the reason had been, it had been enough to force the Dementors away and reach my friends in safety.

"I … I have my reasons," Snape explained very hesitantly. "A long time ago I promised … promised to … it is not your business," he suddenly ended becoming angry now. "And I expect that you never …"

"Yes, yes, I understand. Looks like Harry's Patronus was strong enough, doesn't it?"

He simply nodded, glaring at me for the rest of the way towards the Hospital Wing.

.

_Hogwarts – Hospital Wing – June 9th_

"No, Minister Fudge, I have no idea. As Mr. Kamenew and I reached the lake the Dementors were away and those three were unconscious. Perhaps Mr. Potter will have an explanation after his awakening," with a short stare in my direction Professor Snape was leading the a bit confused looking Fudge away from the Hospital.

We had brought Harry and Hermione here together with Ron – who was magically induced sleeping now to recover from his broken leg – while Sirius had been brought into a secure room in one of the towers, awaiting his verdict.

"He is away, you can stop pretending to be asleep, Harry," I said lowly without a smile. Pointing towards the chocolate I went to Hermione's side which was also slowly awakening now. "You should eat that chocolate, medicine against the Dementors' attacks."

"Where's Sirius," he asked instead, trying to stand up. Unimpressed I pushed him back. "Eat, and then ask." Realizing that he wasn't a match to me without his wand, he started to eat and I waited for both to end their sweet meal before I allowed a conversation.

.

"So this Peter Pettigrew was hidden quite openly for more than a decade and this Sirius Black had been innocently behind bars for all this time. That's awful. But I fear that without Pettigrew nobody will believe you. And no … they won't believe Professor Lupin too, now that it is public knowledge about him being a werewolf and an old friend of Sirius."

Shaking my head I glared at Hermione: "How could you be so dumb?" Shocked she stared at me. "How could you be so careless with an Animagus? Naturally he used the first opportunity to escape. Why didn't you stun him as you did with Snape? Or simply …" I indicated the motion "strike on the head with a chair leg. But certainly not simply shackling and hoping for the best."

"Now it is easy to know better," Harry grumbled but Hermione agreed.

I sighed. „Whatever! We have to find a solution now. Fudge, this dumbass you Britons call Minister, plans to condemn Sirius to receive the kiss of a Dementor at sunset."

"We can't allow this," Harry started to rumble, Hermione leaning back in her bed weeping openly now.

"Stop it, both of you, "I growled. "Stop complaining, stop whining and start to act. I hope you've realized for now that words don't help. We can't hope to find Pettigrew fast enough so we have to free him."

"And do you have a plan or are you only …" I interrupted Harry anew, slowly getting more than a bit irritated now.

"Shut up and listen. Naturally I have a plan, but regretfully I need you … to be exact: I need Hermione. Follow me, both of you." Staring shortly at Harry I added: "Hermione's job will be to free him but I guess that you'll want to say farewell. Be quiet now."

.

The sight of Hermione as I led her into the barn and she saw the believed to be dead Hippogriff was priceless. After explaining what she had to do it had been clear that Hermione and not Harry would be flying on Buckbeak to Sirius window as she had to disarm the traps and locks thereon. Harry and I could only nervously wait, hidden in the barn, until she returned with Sirius.

I wasn't sure about him, had to trust the opinion of Harry and Hermione – and Ron, o Merlin it has come to that, me trusting Ron – and watch him leave on Buckbeak's back. At least he suspended me from the burden of how to care for the Hippogriff. Now it was really time to go back and hope that Poppy …

.

Somehow I still heard the rattle of the forcefully opened door as Minister Fudge entered the Hospital Wing behind Lucius Malfoy and Professor Snape some minutes ago. They had, quite correctly, assumed that it had been Harry and Hermione – perhaps with my help – who had freed the Hippogriff and rescued Sirius Black.

They were fuming and rambling now, staring down at Harry and Hermione who were in their beds again, pretending to be very well-behaved patients.

"This is all nonsense. They had been in their beds the whole time with Mr. Kamenew caring for them. They had to recover from those Dementors' attacks," Auntie Poppy testified very convincingly.

"And you're sure that they never left the room," Malfoy demanded to know?

"I'm sure about that. I have never been longer away from this room than a few minutes and they had been there the whole time." I knew that she had been here, seeing the empty beds, knowing …

I avoided looking in her direction until the three men had left the room again, Harry and Hermione sighing deeply. With a stern glare Madam Pomfroy said: "I really hope that you three know what you have done. I really hope that I'll never regret this. And the next time …" she stepped nearer to me, nearly touching my ear with her lips "I expect you to ask me before you do something like this again. I'm disappointed … not by the action but that you didn't trust me."

I nodded solemnly. "I apologize, Auntie, I should have known better. It won't happen again."

.

_**A/N**_

_I'll be away for a few days now and hope to write the last short chapter/epilogue next week. After that I'll go on with the events of year four respectively the summer break._


	19. Chapter 19 Epilogue

**Epilogue**

_Hogwarts – June 10th 1994_

Would it be like he expected? Piotr was on his way to Snape's class room and thinking about the conversation he dreaded a bit. As expected Snape had invited him to 'speak about the events' and even with Piotr trusting the Professor more than most other students did he wasn't inexperienced enough to think that the Slytherin House Master would simply believe his word to stay quiet. A very small smile crept on his face as he thought about where he had just been. A small package, a small note to the Royal English Post and he hoped that his little reinsurance would be enough to outmaneuver the smart teacher. Entering the passage with the room he forced his thoughts to alter their path, remembered all what he had learned in painful lessons about Occlumency.

He assumed that Snape would be a good Legilimence – something Piotr had not much skill so far – but Piotr had learned very early how important it was to shield his thoughts from intruding teachers and luckily his sister had been a very talented teacher. Hopefully it would be enough.

.

He would be here in a few minutes as Snape knew. A little fear could be seen in his eyes as Snape invited him to his room but that was no surprise from someone with Mr. Kamenew's background and experience. Durmstrang obviously had taught him a healthy respect in dealing with teachers.

Snape hated what he had to do and this emotion troubled and surprised him. But perhaps it was quite normal as Kamenew had proven himself to be a bearable person even with his sometimes unnerving comments especially about his friend Granger. There weren't many students that not only showed this kind of interest in his subject but also seemed to like to spend time with him, even if 98% of this time was related to Potions.

More than one obscure book had found his way to Snape in the last year and these notes Kamenew had published to assist the junior students had really been helpful. Snape had no qualms to admit this at least to himself as these notes had spared him more than one hour of painful explaining. Only one thing had been difficult to grasp for him even now: Kamenew seemed to really … like him in a way. Like him without the ulterior motive to influence his marks or somehow kiss his ass. So far he had seen this behavior only from Draco and the young Malfoy was his Godson and hence a very special case.

Snape sighed. These thoughts weren't helpful. He had to do this and he had to do this now before Kamenew had time to speak about the events at the lake with anyone. So far he apparently had held his mouth shut. Certainly Harry or Lupin or Dumbledore would have shown somehow their knowledge if Kamenew had told them about snaky Snape rescuing the boy-who-lived; the 'boy-who-would-be-dead-without-my-help' Snape corrected himself inwardly with a little smirk. But nobody could be allowed to know that he had rescued Harry. It wasn't only his reputation that he had to shield but also his cover. He was the bad, black Death Eater, a person like him didn't defend Harry Potter against the kiss of a Dementor.

"Lily, he is safe again, as I promised," he mumbled shortly. Kamenew certainly had noticed the unusual form of his Patronus. How could he know that it had been like this in memory of the one woman in his life he had really loved so far? No, Kamenew had to forget about that, about the Patronus and the Rescue. But he had to be careful and extinguish these memories very carefully. He didn't want to damage that mind.

A knock … "come in" … Snape trained his wand towards the door … Kamenew … "Obliviate".

.

_Hogwarts – June 23rd 1994_

The last two weeks had been a weird mix of relief and grief: grief because Peter Pettigrew had escaped and with him any chance to prove Sirius' innocence. Relief because live seemed secure again. About Sirius Black's escape only vague rumors could be heard, none of them even near the truth. Lupin would leave the school with the students. Too many parents had expressed their concern about a werewolf teaching their children.

Piotr shortly thought about the letter Lupin had promised to write at Snape. He hoped that it was a first step to at least a kind of truce between these men as he respected both of them despite their great difference. He believed Lupin that he hadn't known about the prank Sirius had planned so many years ago but he also understood Snape.

"_Professor Lupin … that wasn't a prank, nothing comparable to hiding his books or throwing some water bombs or a little shoe hex. If Harry's father hadn't intervened Snape would have been very badly surprised. That Sirius tried to send him in the Howling Shack knowing that you would be there as a Werewolf … you know exactly that you wouldn't been able to control yourself. You could have wounded him, killed him perhaps or even more frightening caused him to be a werewolf too. Who else than you would know what a kind of fate that would have been. It is quite possible that he won't believe you even now that you both didn't know about Sirius' plan but I hope that you try at least to tell him. And he deserves an apology … don't you admit? He deserves some words of 'I'm sorry about what nearly happened'. Even with Sirius your best living friend he had done sometime despicable back then, something only explainable because of his youth back then. I don't expect him to ever admit that but from you …"_

Lupin had been very quiet at his little speech, his deep frown very slowly smoothing. That Lupin had promised to do this at least in a letter caused Piotr to smile. A letter was the best he could have hoped for. Nobody could stand to apologize to a smirking Snape. The Slytherin wasn't really helpful in those matters.

.

Very gentle Piotr's hand stroke the book before he placed it carefully in the smaller bag he planned to use during the train journey. 'Darwin's Journey to the Galapagos Islands' had been his present from Hermione six months ago. Always had he promised himself to finally read it but always there had been other, more important books waiting for him. Now he would start it finally. He had used the last two days to say good bye to everyone:

To Hermione who would spend the summer with her parents and a few weeks with the Weasleys; to Harry who had to endure the time with his Uncle and Aunt, the wizard-hating Muggles who did all to justify the bad picture Draco and Pansy had about their kind.

Draco … he had spoken with him a week ago, mostly exchanged promises to stay quiet about the events around Buckbeak. Not even Hannah and Hermione knew about his part in the rescue. Reputation … reputation … it was very important for the young Malfoy but that he had helped in saving the Hippogriff's live had been a good sign for the future.

Pansy had nearly growled at him as he pressed a little book with tasks for potions in her hand but she had promised to at least take a look at them. She had taken great leaps in the last year in Potions and he would regret it to see hear doing a regress.

Hannah and Neville … they had been his best friends in this difficult first year, difficult especially because he still had problems trusting the teachers, still had problems to see the difference to Durmstrang. He was willing to change but always there had been this small devil on his shoulder, whispering presentiments in his ear. Without Neville and especially Hannah it would have been much harder to find his place in Hogwarts. They had promised to write him to St. Mungo's and he hoped that his work there would allow him to answer them.

Madam Prewitt had told him about his planned work and he was anxious to see the children's station, to get to know his colleagues there. Would the work with them be similar to the Hospital Wing? Would they be similar to Madam Pomfroy? Irrespective of how hard it would be, he would make his Aunt happy and proud, that he had sworn to himself.

.

She had noticed him lingering in the background these last days. He obviously tried hard to find a moment without Ron around to talk to her. Long had she pondered about how to react but at last something convinced her to come his way at least a bit. She had been in the library for a longer time than needed and even went to corridors not overrun with other students. Ginny was unsure what to expect. In itself she wasn't allowed to speak with him; in itself Ron and Percy would expect her to tell them willingly about every exchange of words.

But she knew that she wouldn't see him for three months and a little bit she felt sad about that. Luna had often told about him; Neville was proud to be his friend and even Hermione spent nearly more time with Piotr than with Ron and Harry. How could it be false to … no this thought was wrong? Percy had been adamant about this and he was only following their father's words about this, she knew.

"I wanted to congratulate you on your examinations. Luna told me that you had been very successful." His words, even with her expecting them, startled Ginny. She didn't turn around and her nod was nearly invisible. "If you ever need help in the next year, I'll be there for you. And Hermione would care for you too, if you'd allow her." He put a small bottle on the shelf beside her. "Using this in small amounts on wounds helps with clean and unscarred healing." Not waiting for an answer he went away, not seeing – only hoping – that Ginny after long pondering stored the bottle in her bag and left the library.

It was time for the train.

.

_**A/N:**_

_With this ends the first story about Piotr Iljitsch Kamenew and his time at Hogwarts. In the next days I'll start the next part, describing the events of year four – the Goblet of Fire – where Piotr will meet some of his former fellow students from Durmstrang. _


End file.
